They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. They’re just all men, and no one is safe from scandal. So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. But, no. “I did,” Anna answered. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects.
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