One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. "Yes … but dreadfully tired. Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape. And yet the moment I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all on my reputation. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation.
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