But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. \" He said. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. The thousand voices which a few moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed. These things did not harmonize with his conception of the forthcoming (if unavoidable) interview. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. .
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