Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. He needed to laugh, but only she laughed as he chuckled weakly. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. " "I'll have no explanations whatever," replied the carpenter, disdainfully, "except before a magistrate.
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