” “I think I am. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. ” “Miss Ellicot! That old cat!” Sydney exclaimed indignantly. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. \" Lucy felt the familiar warmth surge upward from her crotch. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. Things now began to wear so serious a aspect that a messenger was secretly despatched to the Savoy for troops, and in half an hour a regiment of the guards arrived, who by dint of great exertion succeeded in partially dispersing the tumultuous assemblage. The few whites he had ever known generally offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him. The men have never had so much work to do since they banded. There was just a minute’s hesitation before they gave her a room. Nothing else so quickly establishes the condition of comradeship as the sharing of a laughable incident. ‘A convenient desire, Mademoiselle Charvill.
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