She was quivering with the sense of Capes at her side and glowing with heroic love; it seemed to her that if they put their hands jointly against the Alps and pushed they would be able to push them aside. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. And she was about as capable of intelligent argument as a runaway steam-roller. CHAPTER XXVII. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. Having once more got into the chimney, he climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as vigorously as before.
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