"Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. I do not know. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. The boy she had loved was gone. Kneebone assured her that he did say so; and, as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand very warmly under the table. Beck, it smells wonderful in here. It was a dismal and depressing sight to see a great city thus suddenly overthrown; and the carpenter was deeply moved by the spectacle.
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