Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. "I'll now pay the debt I owe you," cried Jack, tightening his grip till the thieftaker blackened in the face. All the rest is humbug and delicacy. Sections and pages had been pasted together, and all through both Testaments a word had been blotted out. A nine days’ wonder is soon forgotten. "After him," cried Wild; "he mustn't escape.
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