"No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again. ” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. There was a young lad ahead of her. If you owe your confinement to me, you shall owe your liberation to me, also. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman.
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