“But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. " "Yes. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. "And there you're right, you may dipind, marm," observed Terence. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. I think that I will tell you. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious. "I've spoken.
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