The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. . "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. But I have powerful friends.
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