We have seen great and sober-minded men come to this unholy city, and become degenerates. “That’s all very well when one isn’t the material experimented upon,” Ann Veronica had remarked. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain. Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him. They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. That's the way she strikes me. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. ” She laughed gaily. He walked with bent head. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. 6.
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