"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. Go to her, I say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I can't make you see. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. I am rehearsing now for a new play at the ‘Garrick’ and I have quite made up my mind to try and make some sort of position for myself as an actress. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. Let me only wear your livery.
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