“A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper. ’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. . C. . I even offered him back the half interest he had sold to me. Naturally it all came out then. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. “Thanks to you.
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