If so I shall have to leave. " And muttering some remarks, which we do not care to repeat, reflecting upon the consistency of the sex, he was preparing once more to depart, when Mrs. She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon. A young man was playing the banjo. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought.
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