" At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. We do not remember to have met with a single individual, reported to be under petticoat government, who was not content with his lot,—nay, who so far from repining, did not exult in his servitude; and we see no way of accounting for this apparently inexplicable conduct—for which, among other phenomena of married life, various reasons have been assigned, though none entirely satisfactory to us—except upon the ground that these domineering dames possess some charm sufficiently strong to counteract the irritating effect of their tempers; some secret and attractive quality of which the world at large is in ignorance, and with which their husbands alone can be supposed to be acquainted. No; I’m going to stick to the rules. But I'll not believe it of you. But I am sick of tearing up letters and hopeless of getting what I have to say better said. You, Anna, are one of them. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. Let me recommend a glass of wine. It was horrible. Towards night, however, he ventured out, and walked on towards London. “Annabel?” he exclaimed.
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