She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. “There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. Taking off his stockings, he then drew up the basils as far as he was able, and tied the fragments of the broken chain to his legs, to prevent them from clanking, and impeding his future exertions. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight.
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