“It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. The leg and wing of a duck were disposed of by this gentleman in a twinkling; a brace of pigeons and a pound of steak followed with equal celerity; and he had just begun to make a fierce assault upon the eggs and ham. “So your father brought you here to live in the States?” John asked.
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