” “How?” “It prevents our marrying. ‘But there is something still I do not understand. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. Mrs. Oh, it was very bad. I’d need to be out of my senses. He stood away from her. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. One keeps rules in order to be one’s self. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat. Now she knew why the soldiers had not caught him. Profligate women are never reclaimed.
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