” “I suppose so. “But you must forgive me, John. . That's the job. . I’m like a creature just wakened up. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. Long ago. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. ’ She stopped, for Jack was feebly laughing. In concealing himself behind the timber, Mr. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze.
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