Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. She still had her letter of credit. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. “It jars.
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