“She isn’t fit to walk,” said John. “Don’t let her do it.”
She looked at Thane; the gesture he was making toward her froze in the air.
“Take her as you would a nettle, firmly,” John recommended.
“’Tain’t what’s outside I’m afraid of,” said Thane.
Stepping ahead and turning, John confronted her. Thane did the same. She made to go around them, right. They moved that way. She made to go around them, left. They moved that way. With a frustrated gesture she gave it up, turned a tormented profile and made them feel how much she despised them.
“Mrs. Thane,” said John, “do you wish to leave New Damascus—leave it now—tonight?”
Agnes turned on him in a sudden rage of exasperation.
“Fly, I suppose! Fly away with a—a—what is he? I forget.”
“Oh, oh,” John groaned.
“What are you?” she said to Thane.