She was longing to be in some house where she could give adequate expression to the diabolical temper she felt it right to indulge.
In the afternoon it was some relief to see the confessor coming up the garden.

He had resumed his usual deliberate pace.

His hands were folded upon his breast.

He looked as the mournful Jeremiah may have looked, when he had the burden of a heavy prophecy to deliver.
The Senora sat down with a doggedly sullen air, which Antonia understood very well.

It meant, "I am not to be forced to take any way but my own, to-day"; and the wise priest understood her mood as soon as he entered the room.