But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. Celestial Uncles! Spurlock chuckled, and a bit of chestnut, going down the wrong way, set him to coughing violently. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. . “Limp,” he answered.
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