Quick! Go now--while you can!" "But I can't!" declared Julian.
"Yes, you can,--you must! You too, Ronald! Where are your coats?
Pop them on and make a dash for it! You'll come back better.

Perhaps you will get out of the swishing after all." Julian turned his head and looked at her by the light of the flaring, unshaded gas-jet.

"By Jove!" he said.

"You're rather a brick, Mrs.
Denys." "Don't stop to talk!" she commanded.

"Just get up and do as I say.