The room was dark and dusty. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. You remember that you saw us at the Savoy a few evenings ago?” “Yes. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. " Mrs.
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