Quilt was not long in following his example. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. But if we had gone under—!” They regarded one another silently, and Ann Veronica had one of her penetrating flashes. But there was only Gosse, still struggling with the picture, looking dazedly towards Melusine and the lad he had shot, then away towards the sounds of pursuit, and back again. As he was conveyed thither, an incident occurred that produced a considerable impression on the feelings of the youthful offender. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him. Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your arm.
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