" "Save us!" exclaimed Wood. " Ruth brushed her eyes with one hand and with the other signed for the spinster to stop. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. It was intolerable to think that he might overhear words and phrases. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. F. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other.
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