"What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. I fancy that Sir John does not approve of me. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. Yet, I suppose that at the present moment I am the most envied man in the room.
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