"Is this her work?" "It is," answered Thames. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. ” Miss Miniver followed with an expression of perplexity, her mouth shaped to futile expositions. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. She would not be driven in by this persistent, sneaking aggression. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. Its smooth surface soothed her nerves.
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