She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. But just as they were about to place him on the ground, he burst from their hold, and made a desperate spring at Jonathan, who was standing with his arms folded near the door watching the scene. “Now here hath been dawning another blue day; I’m just a poor woman, please take it away. About two weeks ago.
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