“I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. "I'll see. ’ ‘That,’ said Gosse, ‘is a matter of opinion. I don’t suppose a girl can tell if a man is in love with her or not in love with her. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. I love him!" She was weak and dizzy: from horror as much as from physical exertion. But the current rumblings of internal discontent across the Channel were productive of unease in certain quarters. Soho! boys. The noose was at its throat when I called for help.
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