These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. CHAPTER XVII. 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. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. Trenchard was tempted to examine the contents of some of these cases, but a closer inspection made him recoil from them in disgust. Anna sprang to her feet with a startled cry. I have yet another. That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" "Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed the bills into her reticule. .
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