“Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. While the strife raged between the principals, the watermen in the larger wherry were occupied in stemming the force of the torrent, and endeavouring to keep the boats, they had lashed together, stationary. The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. ‘If you imagine you’re going to use one ungentlemanly act to manipulate me, you very much mistake the matter. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone.
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