I told her it was the end. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. 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. It was the beginning and the end of the transaction. "It's an odd-shaped one," rejoined Kneebone, examining it attentively. " "Take it," replied Thames. "You're inquisitive, young gentleman," replied Jackson, coldly.
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