Doesn’t matter a bit to me. Excited by the scene, Jack, however, could pay little attention to the good man's discourse, and was lost in a whirl of tumultuous emotions. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. ‘Ah, Madame Joan. We shall become a prey to the Philistines, and must turn honest in self-defence. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. The fire still burned brightly.
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