CHAPTER XVI. Ann Veronica was in their very forefront. Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. But I dare not accept it. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. Small, but eminently serviceable. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment. "Devilish strange!" thought he, chuckling to himself; "queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt for his own—capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though. —You've your answer, Blueskin," he added, pushing that individual, who seemed unwilling to depart, towards the door; "it's useless to urge the matter further. ” Ann Veronica reflected for an instant “That’s why I think I ought to come.
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