Mrs. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. The Hospital St. Don’t be afraid that I shall stunt it. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. My vengeance is completely gratified. He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her. You see, my riddle is solved. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. But never mind that. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. CHAPTER II.
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