” “And you?” asked David Courtlaw. "I was at Tyburn. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. ” “Then, by God!” he said, “you’ll be locked up!” Ann Veronica was disconcerted for a moment. The novel danger of the situation enthralled him.
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