“I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at such an unseemly hour. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. Wood, I forget nothing. The boat in which he rode was not overset. My husband, he is cruel and wicked, and—and entirely undistinguished. This I have sworn to do—this I will do. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. ” “We will go together,” she answered. I hated him. This is retribution. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed.
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