"No, no, Sir," replied Ireton. You won't refuse me, I'm sure; so no more need be said about the matter. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. "Ah! I see. I want to get away—to go to London. Wild will hang me. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park.
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