” Lucy knew exactly which blouse Sheila had found. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. She found presently she was out of the dock and confronted with the alternative of being bound over in one surety for the sum of forty pounds— whatever that might mean or a month’s imprisonment. A brief description will suffice for them. She ought to have leapt back on guard. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent.
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