" "Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. You need give yourself no more concern about Kneebone. If you had lived twenty years ago you would have been called a Young Person, and it would have been your chief duty in life not to know, never to have heard of, and never to understand. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. "We shall see. ! He’ll come a cropper one of these days, if you ask me.
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