Her eyes which never strayed away from mine, her set features, her whole immovable figure, how well I knew those appearances of a person who has "made up her mind." A very hopeless condition that, specially in women.

I mistrusted her concession so easily, so stonily made.

She reflected a moment.

"Yes.

I ought to have said--ingratitude, perhaps." After having thus disengaged her brother and pushed the poor girl a little further off as it were--isn't women's cleverness perfectly diabolic when they are really put on their mettle ?--after having done these things and also made me feel that I was no match for her, she went on scrupulously: "One doesn't like to use that word either.