” “But—This bolt from the blue! My God! Ann Veronica, you don’t understand. All the turnkeys were assembled. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. I'll think no more about her. I want to talk to Mr. '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday.
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