Wood was scarcely seated before Mr. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. She jumped up at once, caught up a leather clutch containing notebooks, a fat textbook, and a chocolate-and-yellow-covered pamphlet, and leaped neatly from the carriage, only to discover that the train was slowing down and that she had to traverse the full length of the platform past it again as the result of her precipitation. Thank you for the books. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over. Mr.
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