" "Wretch!" cried Jack, raising his hand in a menacing manner, "your triumph will be short-lived. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. Thames said not another word, but marched boldly towards him, and seized him by the collar. “It’s—private. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. Don’t be late if you can help it. “Looks like old times here, I see. They’re too free for their innocence or too innocent for their freedom.
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