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” “I may come a little way, then?” he begged. “Let’s go outside. "You mistake,—you are mine. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. E. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot.
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