"That'll teach you to keep a civil tongue in your head for the future," observed Thames, as he helped Jack to his feet. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. It gave him plenty of time to obsess over his random crushes, which worried her.
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