"Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. They all balk because there aren't any petticoats. It hit her just above the knee.
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