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It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. " "Decidedly so," replied Edgeworth Bess; "and I'll take this opportunity, while Jack's back is turned,—for he's grown so strangely particular,—of easing him of his snuff-box. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head. The pistol was lowered slightly. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. " Some innate sense of balance told her that something was wrong with these tales.
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