" "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. “Well, because I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. Cathy answered the phone.
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