" "Very well, sir. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. But things that a girl of sixteen may do in short skirts are not things to be done by a young lady of twenty-one in fancy dress and an opera-cloak, and just as she was coming unaided to an adequate realization of this, she discovered Mr. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. It is no good. Amongst other things, he had just brought down an old laced bavaroy, a species of surtout much worn at the period. He can't play cards, either, when he's sober. We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home. Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. Then she went below.
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