” “And my heart has ached for him!” “Oh, no doubt it cut him at the time. I had gone further than I meant to—with some Englishmen. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on.
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