It fell to the ground and smoked ominously. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. Acting upon this humane determination, he impelled himself slowly backwards,—for he did not dare to face the blast,—and with incredible labour and fatigue reached the crevice. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. “No, stay, Lucy. And rather unscrupulous.
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