’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. "You can render no further service to your poor mother. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. The poor boy, imagining things! "That's want of substantial food. ” From that she opened out into a long, confused emphatic discourse on the position of women, full of wonderful statements, while Constance worked at her stencilling and Ann Veronica and Hetty listened, and Teddy contributed sympathetic noises and consumed cheap cigarettes. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. "I might return the question.
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