" The Wastrel laughed. " "What is it?" asked the poor woman. . No matter how swiftly he pursued this riddle, he could not bring it to a halt. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. "Oh! he'll be after you directly. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. " The woollen-draper replied by gallantly handing her the box, which was instantly snatched from her by Blueskin, who, after helping himself to as much of its contents as he could conveniently squeeze between his thumb and finger, put it very coolly in his pocket.
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