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“Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. "Then you need no further information from me," rejoined Jackson, sternly. " "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me. None presented themselves to save him from that return. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. For on reaching the second floor, a swishing sound came to Gerald’s ears, as of someone moving about. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled.
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