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She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. “It’s very good,” she said. " "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. “I must go. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?.
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