But oh, how weary I am! I know. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. Aware that he should incur the thief-taker's bitterest animosity by what he had done, the watchman, whose wrath against Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk, thought it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master, till the storm had, in some measure, blown over. There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors. I finally got my own set of house keys when I turned eleven. Bête, she told herself fiercely.
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