Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s alert glance found his. “I want to ask you a question,” he said. Her steps slowed. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. Whoever chose to incur the risk of so doing might enter the Mint at any hour; but no one was suffered to depart without giving a satisfactory account of himself, or producing a pass from the Master. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. "What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently.
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