Jack had no sooner taken his place in the cart, than he was followed by the ordinary, who seated himself beside him, and, opening the book of prayer, began to read aloud. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. ” “For a little time,” she answered. Let—it—fall. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said. The women’s meeting was much more charged with emotional force than the Socialists’. He had only been prevented, indeed, by a fear of Mrs. Had Gosse taken it as he escaped? What could she do? Gosse now knew that she was the daughter of Mary Remenham. .
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