She kept opening her eyes and looking at it. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. "Is this her work?" "It is," answered Thames.
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