"Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. Because I’m younger than you. I’ve had it, Sheila. You break into a gentleman’s residence —’ ‘I did not break in. ‘Now then, missie. "This suspense is worse than torture. He looked distant, irritated. And the jailers also retired. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. It was the gallows.
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