Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. “But you must forgive me, John. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. " "My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once.
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