He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. " "That, alone, ought to have prevented you from acting as you did, Jack," returned Thames, gravely. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. I've always been more or less music-mad.
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