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"I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. ” Courtlaw turned abruptly to Brendon. Ann Veronica considered her answer. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. “Of course,” he ventured, “I could try for more at the ‘Alhambra. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. "It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one.
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