“Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. She drank it obediently. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. ‘Was you following, too, miss?’ ‘Certainly I was following. ” “I suppose not. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. It may be well, therefore, before proceeding farther, to describe it more minutely. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne.
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