She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. The idea of your being a failure would never have occurred to me. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. But I shan’t try to stop you.
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