" "For me!" vociferated Mrs. "For me—his master, Mr. " "The deuce he has!" cried Dump. His literary instincts began to stir. " "Stick the spike into him, then," returned Sheppard, coolly, "while I unbar the outlet. . “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. As he fell, he caught at the projecting masonry. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. ” She looked at him quizzically. But he reckoned without his host. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees.
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