"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. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. But never mind that. " Something in the child's voice, something in her manner, warned the spinster that her well-meaning inquisitiveness had received a set-back and that it would be dangerous to press it forward again. " "I forgot to mention there's a trifling reward for his capture," cried Shotbolt, popping his head from under the cloth.
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