C. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. “Soon she will return. “There’s the classes,” said Constance, the well-informed.
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