I—I know what that old negro says is all foolishness, but—there is something the matter with Mr. Michaelis. Have you noticed?
Rhoda.
Avoiding her aunt's gaze.
Yes.
Mrs. Beeler.
Just when his great work is about to begin!—What do you think it can be?
Rhoda.
How should I know, Aunt Mary?
Mrs. Beeler.
I thought maybe—Rhoda, I have seen him look at you so strangely! Like—like the Pilgrim in the picture, when he hears that heathen creature playing on the pipe.—You are such a wild creature, or you used to be.