“Gross. “Okay. "But it wants something here. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. A small voice greeted her, hissing. " "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. It is very sweet of you to have waited for me. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. You can tell me the rest another time. You are just necessary to life for me. "Good night, Master. " CHAPTER V.
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