The violence of the collision nearly threw him backwards, and caused him to swerve as he sprang. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. “Tell me,” he said; “speak to me. ” “Well, Ann Veronica Smith,” the magistrate remarked when the case was all before him, “you’re a good-looking, strong, respectable gell, and it’s a pity you silly young wimmin can’t find something better to do with your exuberance. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. ’ Gerald sighed. I could not have committed this robbery.
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