"There's Sharples," cried Quilt. “You know very well that she is selfish and pleasure-loving to the backbone. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. “You must do more than think of it,” he urged. I was among the common herd in the place below, but I took good care to see you. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. She laughed altogether in her old manner. “Very well,” said Ann Veronica, with an air of concluding the discussion.
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