” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her view. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. Mind you don't stir till supper's over.
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