Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. She laughed a little bitterly. I am sure he would go with you. He resolved to judge for himself. A cold shiver came over her. Or felt it. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful.
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