She turned there and beckoned. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. We'll come back for that by and by, and the dressing-gown. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. Footman or some such. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. Gosse twisted his body to avoid another thrust, and the heavy candlesticks fell, rolling with a noise like thunder, and falling with a thud to the floor. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. But sadly, at Lullingstone we are too far off the coast to be of use. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. She rested her head upon his shoulder.
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