She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. “Indeed,” she said, “it was very fortunate that I should have met you this afternoon. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. " "Not quite," replied the manager. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey.
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