’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. “I wonder—I wonder if we shall ever get like that. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me.
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