“Was it really only this afternoon that I met you in St. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. “I suppose you know I like you tremendously?” he pursued. Now I ain’t saying as how that there Pottiswick—’ ‘How you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently.
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