ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. He'll mend, I hope. "Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. “Never mind the bill,” said Manning tragically, standing up and thrusting a four-shilling piece into her hand, and turning a broad back on her astonishment.
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