CHAPTER XIII. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. “In Paris your sister appeared to me to be a charming student of frivolity. "Have you never an out-o-the-vay corner, into vich you could shtow these troublesome warmint?" observed Abraham. He took up his hat and went. "He ought to do, seeing that he served his apprenticeship in it to Mr. Tell me how are you amusing yourself?” Anna laughed.
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