Meanwhile the girl had made several unsuccessful attempts to withdraw her dress from the closed drawer, and, abandoning the effort, turned in maidenly fury upon her captor.
"You wretch!"
"You are locked in, Bessie, dear."
"Give me the key instantly, Mr. Moore. Do you hear?"
"Yes," replied the poet. "I hear."
"I never saw such a fellow," she began, but he interrupted her blandly.
"There is none like me," he asserted.
"A very fortunate thing for the world, sir."
"But, Bessie, think how many poor young girls there are just pining for such a love as I 've offered you, and who will never have the luxury, since there is only one Moore."
"I did n't know you could be so horrid," she said, her voice trembling with anger.