She almost submitted to this ending of her adventure. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. On weighing the matter over, he grew so uneasy that he resolved to descend, and inform him of his misgivings. To reach it would be a most difficult undertaking. These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. "There's another instance of your wilfulness and want of taste.
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