The doctor jumped to his feet. "Heaven help us!" he exclaimed; "we were mad to neglect the old sailor's advice. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. She rang again with the same result. She is called Madame Ibstock, you understand. I cannot let you go. Her aunt did not object to capital punishment or war, or the industrial system or casual wards, or flogging of criminals or the Congo Free State, because none of these things really got hold of her imagination; but she did object, she did not like, she could not bear to think of people not having and enjoying their meals. You have said a thousand times that there was no shame in you.
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