The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. . Here again the clothes were minus the labels. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. Terrific shouts were raised by the rabble, who threatened to tear Wild in pieces if he showed himself. "Do not go near him, mother," cried Jack; "do not believe him.
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