If I treated her footman, she told me, I should not treat her.
Well, with all my heart, said I: 'tis not for us tradesmen to be saucy— Is it, Mrs. Smith?
I put her sixpence in my pocket; and, seizing her hand, took notice to her of the crowd that had gathered about the door, and besought her to walk into the back-shop with me.
She struggled her hand out of mine, and would stay no longer.
So I bowed, and bid her kindly welcome, and thanked her, and hoped I should have her custom another time.
She went away smiling; and Andrew after her; who made me a fine bow.
I began to be out of countenance at the crowd, which thickened apace; and bid Will. order the chair to the door.
Well, Mrs. Smith, with a grave air, I am heartily sorry Miss Harlowe is abroad. You don't tell me where she is?
Indeed, Sir, I cannot.
You will not, you mean.—She could have no notion of my coming. I came to town but last night. I have been very ill. She has almost broken my heart by her cruelty. You know my story, I doubt not. Tell her, I must go out of town to-morrow morning. But I will send my servant, to know if she will favour me with one half-hour's conversation; for, as soon as I get down, I shall set out for Dover, in my way to France, if I have not a countermand from her, who has the sole disposal of my fate.