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 a poor-spirited slave, wherefore I now went about to shun his presence and eschew his conversation.

"Where are you going?" asked he, as I edged off sideways. I had already noticed that Mr. Hunsden indulged in abrupt forms of speech, and I perversely said to myself—

"He thinks he may speak as he likes to a poor clerk; but my mood is not perhaps so supple as he deems it, and his rough freedom pleases me not at all."

I made some slight reply, rather indifferent than courteous; and continued to move away. He coolly planted himself in my path.

"Stay here awhile," said he: "it is so hot in the dancing room; besides you don't dance; you have not had a partner to-night."

He was right, and as he spoke neither his look, tone, nor manner, displeased me; my amour-propre was propitiated; he had not addressed me out of condescension, but because, having repaired