"Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. "Oh! Sir, if you'd seen her as I've seen her, you'd not wish her a continuance of misery. The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. Please yourself. Doctor says depositions to-night. " The little urchin set off, and presently returned with the sexton. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. “Now step aside, I have some business to attend to.
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