"I daresay you saw in the papers of the latest Suffragette attempt!—that bomb in Downing Street, I mean. Well, Mother was in it, with Stephen. And now she's gone to Holloway—isn't it dreadful? She's refused bail and declares she means to hunger strike!—I've been nearly off my head about it.
"For she'll never stand it—she hasn't the strength. It will simply kill her——" a smudged word suggested to the reader a tear, hastily blotted off the paper.
Before McTaggart a vision rose of the grey eyes with their frank gaze, fringed by lashes, dark and curled, and the eager face of his school girl friend.
"Mr. Bethune's been awfully kind. He actually arranged for bail, but Mother wouldn't hear of it and there she is—in Holloway Prison.
"Roddy's home. He went to the Head and asked leave to come back to me. He's simply furious about it all—wants to have it out with Stephen. Needless to say, he's free! You bet Stephen looks after himself. I suppose he thinks that one martyr (in the Bible, I mean) is good enough!"
McTaggart laughed grimly aloud at the typical line as he thought of Jill. He could almost see her saying the words, the delicate nostrils curled with scorn.
"Well—that settles it!" He finished the letter and picked up the time-table with a frown.
"I might be able to help the child——" He turned the pages thoughtfully.
"I can catch the express at Genoa and go straight through next Friday—I think. I shall get back in time for Henley. It ought to be jolly in London now."
This settled, he dressed for lunch and informed Mario of his departure, somewhat to the latter's chagrin, who had various ties at Viareggio.