He chuckled. "Now stand before me, Poll. He then descended; and having induced Bess to take off some part of her clothing, he tore the gown and petticoat into shreds and twisted them into a sort of rope which he fastened to the lower bars of the window. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring. " Neither spinster noticed the reluctance in the tones. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed.
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