"Come out!" roared Quilt, looking into the aperture. Fast asleep, he is. If he senses fear in the touch of your hand, he'll give you trouble. "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. . Try and let him never regret it. But he afterwards acted upon the suggestion. “Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world.
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