After all, this could never be the black sheep. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. Besides, he might hear things. He refused. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. You won't mind if I empty this gin?" "No.
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