“My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. . A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. "Shotbolt! by—" cried Austin, as the captive was dragged forth. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. You are to make for that and get into the lobby if you can, and so try and reach the floor of the House, crying ‘Votes for Women!’ as you go. “Yes, I see that. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. His sister followed.
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