She could not help herself. "Try fifty pounds more," said Jonathan. To be confronted with the girl’s damned Frenchman of a husband was another matter altogether. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. You will not have to wait long for the information.
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