I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. Using the shirt, she cleaned away the blood. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. If they do, now and then, run away with a knocker, paint a sign, beat the watch, or huff a magistrate, they pay for their pastime, and that's sufficient. ” “What’s our lot?” asked her sister.
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