Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. Gracious, there’s the gong. Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. But you had better know the truth to start with.
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