"So I perceive," replied Jack. ‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote. "The glass never sinks in that way, d'ye see, without a hurricane follerin', I've knowed it often do so in the West Injees. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat. My wife—killed me. "I will have it now," rejoined Trenchard, "or our agreement is void. ’ He bowed. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet.
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