She's the boss. "I am here, you see," said the smith. This obstacle, which appeared to preclude the possibility of egress in that quarter, was speedily got rid of. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. ” There was a moment’s silence. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity.
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