I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. ’ ‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. ‘I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes. . “Dear me!” he said. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. He had a great contempt for the sections the “theorizers” produced.
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