He yelled at the girls for neglected to hand Lucy a pair of shorts or a sweater while they stood around in shock. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. "Leave the room instantly, sirrah!" rejoined the lady, bouncing up, and giving him a slap on the cheek that made his eyes flash fire. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Hang the wench! Roding was right. He's now engaged on the hall at Greenwich Hospital. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. “Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she.
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