Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. It’s these damned novels. ” It came upon him like a flash. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. ’ ‘Don’t interrupt me! You break into a gentleman’s residence, I say, and hold up two members of His Majesty’s peacekeeping forces with a pistol. There is a small yewtree west of the church. The weed was all right. "And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, "I've a piece o' good news for you. Now then. ’ ‘It is you who will get the head blown off,’ threatened the young lady fiercely.
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