" "'Sblood!" cried Jackson, rising, "I can't sit still and hear Mr. He yielded his place and struck instead with his tongue. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. ” Brendon was not inclined to be led away from the point. 13 with a latchkey went humming lightly up to her room. The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her. Life is so good. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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