“Ritter’s!” said Ramage to the driver, “Dean Street. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. As a matter of fact it isn’t their affair. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. " "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried.
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