I do not wish to wound you, but when you talk of Harold, you make me so mad.
Good-morning; it is time for me to be at my drudgery, as you call it.' She walked rapidly away, leaving her parasol, which she had again thrust into the ground, flopping in the breeze which had just sprung up, and each flop seemed to mock the discomfited Tom, who, greatly astonished but not at all out of conceit with himself, sat staring blankly after her, and with her head and shoulders more erect than usual, if possible, she went on almost upon a run until a turn in the road hid her from view.

Then he arose and shook himself together, and picking up the soiled parasol, folded it carefully and put it upon the seat, saying as he did so: 'By George! did that girl know what she was about when she refused to marry me ?'.