of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica's exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strata-edges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica's feet. About half-way across this interval, when everything seemed going well, Capes had a shock.
"Heavens!" exclaimed Ann Veronica, with extraordinary passion. "My God!" and ceased to move.
Capes became rigid and adhesive. Nothing ensued. "All right?" he asked.
"I'll have to pay it."
"Eh?"
"I've forgotten something. Oh, cuss it!"
"Eh?"
"He said I would."
"What?"
"That's the devil of it!"
"Devil of what?... You DO use vile language!"
"Forget about it like this."
"Forget WHAT?"
"And I said I wouldn't. I said I'd do anything. I said I'd make shirts."
"Shirts?"
"Shirts at one—and—something a dozen. Oh, goodness! Bilking! Ann Veronica, you're a bilker!"
