"Ah!" exclaimed Lady Trafford, exerting all her strength. ” “I can’t work. For although I must confess it reads very much like an application or a testimonial or some such thing as that, I can assure you I am writing this in fear and trembling with a sinking heart. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. "It's like enough, I dare say," rejoined Sheppard.
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