“Yes. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. He found the door ajar, and, to his surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table, busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of paper. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. “What was that?” she asked sharply. ” With a swift movement she gained the bell and rang it. And the way he and the other men looked at her! The desire was plain on their faces, so many noblemen reduced to their simplest elements! They looked at her sideways, they looked at her backside, scanning her blue eyes and even looking right into her face. The Roof and the Window. It does not matter to him either way.
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