She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either side.
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