We felt like thieves. I suppose I ought to have been a man. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. Even he was not oblivious to it, and after about two minutes of awkward French kissing, he pulled away. "It's the ordinary's signature, undoubtedly," replied Jack. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes.
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