"And his lordship, furthermore, requests me to state," proceeded Sharples, in a hoarse tone, "that he'll be responsible for the doctors' bill of all such gem'men as have received broken pates, or been otherwise damaged in the fray—ough! ough!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. "How, Sir?" "Except by adoption.
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