“I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. " "No; she accepts it," rejoined Jonathan, triumphantly. " He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. Told you how it would be. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. ‘It weren’t my wish, miss, I can tell you that. .
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