" "Pray do so, Madam," retorted Mrs. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. “I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. The bridesmaids and pages got rather jumbled in the aisle, and she had an effect of Alice’s white back and sloping shoulders and veiled head receding toward the altar. He said the place had gone to wrack. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. ” He adjusted his glasses on his nose. ‘Ah.
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