not go
into the
house
until my
aunt had
driven me
out of
sight of
it. My
aunt, who
was
perfectly
indifferent
to public
opinion,
drove the
grey pony
through
Dover in a
masterly
manner;
sitting
high and
stiff like
a state
coachman,
keeping a
steady eye
upon him
wherever
he went,
and making
a point of
not
letting
him have
his own
way in any
respect.
When we
came into
the
country
road, she
permitted
him to
relax a
little,
however;
and
