" But she did not complete the thought aloud. Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. It was a simple wish. The audience clapped more heartily. " "Never to return," remarked Jack, gloomily. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. But, you see, I’m smirched.
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