E. Sheppard. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. The chair was torture. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. It’s a thing that’s happened to you. We shall become a prey to the Philistines, and must turn honest in self-defence. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose.
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