" "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch. ’ ‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious.
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