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"Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. . The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. "I haven't worn anything else in weeks. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. They walked side by side for a time.

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