Mr. Jackson, gallantly. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. But I know a little place where we’ll get a little quiet talk. “You silly fool,” he said. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us.
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