‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. "There!" cried Mrs. "Yes—what do you mean, Ma'am?" added Jack, staggering after her. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. Spurlock snatched the check out of Ruth's hands and ran to the window. The occasion of all this confusion and dismay, meanwhile, remained perfectly motionless; his figure erect, and with somewhat of dignity in his demeanour. "Shoot him! shoot him! Put him out of hish mishery," cried the Jew. Fas du tout. The Night-Cellar.
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