Mr.Craven won't have it." "I shall not want to go poking about," said sour little Mary and just as suddenly as she had begun to be rather sorry for Mr.Archibald Craven she began to cease to be sorry and to think he was unpleasant enough to deserve all that had happened to him.
And she turned her face toward the streaming panes of the window of the railway carriage and gazed out at the gray rain-storm which looked as if it would go on forever and ever.

She watched it so long and steadily that the grayness grew heavier and heavier before her eyes and she fell asleep..