"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. ‘Here we go again. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. It melted her heart. As it is, we've only a couple of ducks—and they were intended for you. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice.
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