“Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now. ‘Was she planning to make away with all this stuff?’ ‘What’s this?’ Hilary pounced on a black item slung on the floor by the dresser. It was a mass of knick-knacks. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. They sat in the windowed booth at the restaurant across from each other.
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