I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. " The doctor sent her a sharp, quizzical glance. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. Besides, I have my doubts that he is so very sick.
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