Swinging her arm in an arc, she let go of the foil and it flew across the chapel towards the main door, crashing down between the pews, and clattering onto the floor. ‘I find you excessively rude, both of you,’ said the lady crossly. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. " CHAPTER XI. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over.
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