'The light is not too strong to dazzle you,' said Elijah, 'put your hands down, I want to see your face.'
She made an effort to retain them where they were, but could not; they fell.
'Sit down.'
She shook her head.
'Sit down.'
'I want to speak with you, Elijah, for a moment. I must speak with you.' Her heart palpitated, her breast heaved. She could only utter short sentences.
'Sit down there!' he beckoned with the stalk of his pipe.
She still refused to obey. Her power was slipping from her. The exhaustion after the excitement she had gone through had affected even her stout will. She resolved to oppose him in this trifling matter, but knew that her resolution was infirm. She clung desperately to what remained to her of power.
'I will not listen to a word you say unless you sit down.'
He paused, and looked at her; then he said, 'Go to your mother!' and continued his smoking, with face averted.