“I might go home, I don’t know. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. “To be frank with you, Lady Lescelles, when your brother asked me the other day to be his wife I was under a false impression as regards his relations—with some other person. I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. "Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard.
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