James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. “Tell me,” he said; “speak to me. ” Anna got up and looked at the mirror and then at the poster. And, if Rachel had not carried a candle, the room would have been plunged in total darkness. Another coach was then procured, in which the prisoner was placed. “Ugh!” she said. She was the actress his whim had chosen to play a passive part. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts.
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