Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. He understood. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. Manning, all this sort of thing is very well as sentiment, but does it correspond with the realities? Are women truly such angelic things and men so chivalrous? You men have, I know, meant to make us Queens and Goddesses, but in practice—well, look, for example, at the stream of girls one meets going to work of a morning, round-shouldered, cheap, and underfed! They aren’t queens, and no one is treating them as queens. Attempt to molest me, and I split. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. Do look at this tragedy in mauve, who has just come in. The colouring was green and white, with softly shaded electric lights, an alcove bedstead, which was a miracle of daintiness, white furniture, and a long low dressing-table littered all over with a multitude of daintily fashioned toilet appliances. ’ ‘Yes, that is reasonable,’ agreed Melusine, nodding. Spurlock stepped into the room.
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