. “Why not?” He asked. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. ‘But you will not be in a convent. And for many years, that was the way it was. I have never spoken of these things to any human being. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. It was an impulse.
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