CHAPTER XII. "Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. It's fortunate we've no more Jack Sheppards, or I should stand but a poor chance. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. Give us that—” Ann Veronica came in with a certain disregard of Miss Miniver. This threat terrified Ann Veronica so much that she declared with sobs and vehemence that she would never come home again, and for a time both talked at once and very wildly. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude.
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