He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. Oh, goodness! Bilking! Ann Veronica, you’re a bilker!” Pause. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. Let me bind you up, and then you can attend to her. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb.
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