Sheila was finishing her laughter as Lucy brought an elbow down on the back of her head, expertly snapping the vertebra that connected Sheila’s head to her shoulders. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. She winked at him as he shut the door. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. But he was always forcing her to say and do such unexpectedly conclusive things.
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