She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. At length, after he had given up the point from sheer exhaustion, the Amazon seized him by the throat, and pushed him backwards with such force that he rolled over the counter. “Really,” she said. “Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. " "Oh! name it. I may tell him, at any rate, that you will see him?” “I shall like to see him,” Anna answered. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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