“It is not, of course, a pleasant subject of conversation for you or for me, yet I think I may venture to suggest to you that your sister’s—er—indiscretions—have reached a point which makes a separation between you almost a necessity. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. ‘It is the life I know. There was nothing to be got out of the man. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples.
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