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" "Winny," said Thames, whose glowing cheek attested the effect produced upon him by the insinuation; "Winny," said he, addressing a pretty little damsel of some twelve years of age, who stood by his side holding the bottle of embrocation, "help me on with my coat, please. Wood will be intercepted. But I don't understand her; she's over my head. With a drawn cutlass in one hand and a cocked pistol in the other, Blueskin rushed up stairs. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat.
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