“This is all very well,” she said, “but two out of the three are rank deserters— and if the papers tell the truth the third is as bad. As to Mr. "Don't look at it, I entreat," she cried. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner.
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