As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. ‘Say then, Jacques, you have followed him?’ she demanded of the blackgarbed footman. " "Never!" replied the woollen-draper; "and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. “I hope you have not come for that.
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