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" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. Where can I get one?" asked O'Higgins. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. "Ali Baba, in a blue-serge coat!… God-forsaken fool!" CHAPTER XIII One day Ruth caught the patient's eyes following her about; but there was no question in the gaze, no interest; so she pretended not to notice. " "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father.
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