It was in no sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the doctor had already anticipated. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. ‘But it is entirely myself,’ she exclaimed aloud. Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside.
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