Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. I've only a Chinaman who is studying under me; but he's a good sport and will help us out during the crisis. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily.
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