“Yes,” she answered, looking away. “It might be a policeman borrowing the driveway and looking out for speeders. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. No tricks would serve. He thanked God for this talent of his. “Julian, I don’t know how to put this. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. Not a word passed between them. ’ Her lashes fluttered.
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