“The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett. "If you are in earnest, Thames," she replied, with a look of gentle reproach, "you are very foolish; and, if in jest, very cruel. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. This was the reason he had raised his little independent Company of Light Infantry and joined the West Kent Militia. 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.
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