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" "I tell e'e what, John Dump," said the other fellow, who had hitherto preserved silence, "I don't know whether you talkin' o' Jack Sheppard has put him into my head or not; but I once had him pointed out to me, and if that were him as I seed then, he's just now ridden past us, and put up at the Six Bells. ‘When you’re my age, you’ll be just as hardheaded. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. Accepting his glass from the butler, Gerald glanced at Mrs Sindlesham and saw a dimple peep out. Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign. “You see you do not know how much of truth there is in his story. ” “I think,” Anna said, “that it was only his manner. The fanatic has no such word in his vocabulary. There was a strained, eager expression on his face. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. Certain reserves went down on both sides. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. ” Anna disappeared, but Ennison did not trouble either the cigarettes or the magazines. And Leonardo told me never to trust any man. “Mind my smoking?” said Roddy.
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