Her tone was icy. Ann Veronica’s desire to laugh unrestrainedly was checked by the tremendous earnestness of his expression. This is your moment. After this occurence, not a word was exchanged between them until they came in sight of the sloop, which was lying at anchor off Wapping. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. Wood trembled. "Gentlemen," returned the Master, solemnly, "it is a question easily answered— they are NOWHERE! Had they hanged the bailiffs, the bailiffs would not have hanged them. And more boys die than girls, so that the real disproportion among adults is even greater. "Adieu, my worthy uncle.
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