She was glad to join in the stream of hurrying homeward workers that was now welling out of a thousand places of employment, and to imitate their driven, preoccupied haste. We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. She described it so vividly. No, this was imbecile. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. She could not say a word, much less move. She found herself talking to Capes in an undertone of rational admission.
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