” He stared at her incredulously, and she laughed very softly. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. "But she is a dear," said Angelina, timidly. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. ‘How the deuce did she get out without me seeing her?’ ‘Took advantage of the distraction, cunning little devil,’ Gerald snapped, racing down the corridor. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another.
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