He was instantly overpowered, and stretched upon the ground. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. 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. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. "If things had gone smoothly," he thought, "I should have cursed the fellow's stupidity. . "Come here," said the petticoated tyrant.
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