The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. " "Don't listen to him, father," cried Thames, unconscious of what was passing; "there are plenty of people outside. Wood in the deepest mourning. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. You know, Melusine. Vee’s all right. That boy," he added, looking at Thames, "has his eye upon us. Oh! Jack, Jack, you've much to answer for!" "I have, indeed," replied Sheppard, in a tone of contrition. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves.
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