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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"


Yet he would jog quietly on with his teachings, taking no heed to
her mutiny, until suddenly she would be conquered by his
patience, and break into self-revilings a hundred times stronger
than her fault demanded. It chanced however that, on one of
these mornings when the evil mood was upon her, Agatha the young
tire-woman, thinking to please her mistress, began also to toss
her head and make tart rejoinder to the teacher's questions. In
an instant the Lady Maude had turned upon her two blazing eyes
and a face which was blanched with anger.
"You would dare!" said she. "You would dare!" The frightened
tire-woman tried to excuse herself. "But my fair lady," she
stammered, "what have I done? I have said no more than I heard."
"You would dare!" repeated the lady in a choking voice. "You, a
graceless baggage, a foolish lack-brain, with no thought above
the hemming of shifts. And he so kindly and hendy and
long-suffering! You would--ha, you may well flee the room!"
She had spoken with a rising voice, and a clasping and opening of
her long white fingers, so that it was no marvel that ere the
speech was over the skirts of Agatha were whisking round the door
and the click of her sobs to be heard dying swiftly away down the
corridor.


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