“It is intolerable that you should be followed about by such a creature. Wild is sure to be up. The barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty. Suppose our proper place is a shrine. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. “You let him touch you!” John whispered back. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee.
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