So⁠—with a mightier struggle than he had yet sustained⁠—he held his Geneva cloak before his face, and hurried onward, making no sign of recognition, and leaving the young sister to digest his rudeness as she might. She ransacked her conscience⁠—which was full of harmless little matters, like her pocket or her workbag⁠—and took herself to task, poor thing! for a thousand imaginary faults; and went about her household duties with swollen eyelids the next morning.