"Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. You're always complaining that you can't keep anybody more than three months. ’ The girl shook her head violently, setting the feathers on her hat bobbing. Woof! What a dog. 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. “But then they would find that check endorsed in his bureau. That was an admission all right.
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