Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. "What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at lunch?" Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. ’ ‘Dear me. CHAPTER XX. I want to be myself. ’ ‘Yes, do. "Most persons would have guessed my meaning. .
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