"The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. "Attend to me, Mrs. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. "But, take my advice, and keep out of Sir Rowland's way, or you'll get the poor lady into trouble as well as me. Kind of knows it, too. It’s an instinct. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. I’ll be waiting for you outside. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked.
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