I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. To-day he selected the girl, and gave her the lead-chair. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. She had other boyfriends and hung out at Foster’s only bar most of the time.
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