No,
galling as it was, there was nothing to do but to wait the turn of events.
Something might divert his attention. One second was all I wanted, and I
sat there praying for it and ready for it. Meanwhile the scene, the talk,
and she were full of interest.
Marry-me-quick's cottage was no hovel, either for size or appointments.
Brocton was standing with his back to a dresser. On his left was the outer
door, and on his right, between him and Mistress Waynflete, the door in
the party wall leading to the back room where the rabbit-stew was now
being dished up. Madam and I sat on opposite sides of the large hearth, a
small round table, drawn close to the fire for comfort and covered with
the supper things, occupied part of the space between us, but there was
plenty of room for action. When Brocton had stretched out his rapier
towards me in threat and command, the point was perhaps three feet from my
breast, and he could master my slightest movement.
And Mistress Waynflete. At the bridge in the afternoon I had noticed that
while danger for her father had stirred her heart to its dearest depth,
danger for herself troubled her not one whit.
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