‘But you cannot expect that we will any of us remain altogether quiet,’ objected Melusine. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. Mr. Sheppard, smiling through her tears. She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears.
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