We fetched the doctor and the police. "You think our sex has no feeling, I suppose, Sir," cried Mrs. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. " Here a murmur of amazement arose from the assemblage outside. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. Mr. Stonily he had disengaged himself. These sisters moved in a grown-up world inaccessible to Ann Veronica’s sympathies, and to a large extent remote from her curiosity. But, if you have come to surrender yourself to justice, it is well. .
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