’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. The militia offered little in the way of relief. "If you are in earnest, Thames," she replied, with a look of gentle reproach, "you are very foolish; and, if in jest, very cruel. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming.
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