It was the girl. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. Hers were less noble, yet stately. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. ‘He was our first commander, and a more stiff-necked—’ ‘Exactly so,’ concurred Lady Bicknacre. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. ‘For my part, I am in no hurry to end this exciting little adventure.
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