Her mind developed into savage wrath at the present conditions of a woman’s life. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. "Women ought never to show themselves on these occasions, unless they can behave themselves properly. “Twenty-two. I am—’ ‘Like me, entirely English. "Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back.
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