"For the caption!" replied Jackson, coolly drawing a brace of pistols from his pockets. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. He hated himself a little for it. People were passing in the street below. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. But what would her aunt think of Teddy’s recent off-hand suggestion of marriage? What would she think of the Widgett conversation? Suppose she was to tell her aunt quietly but firmly about the parasitic males of degraded crustacea. "It's a mercy you both escaped!" ejaculated Wood, only just finding his tongue. You will also become a very rich man, though I wish that the circumstances had been different. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. This adventure of yours has gone on altogether too long; it has become a serious distress to both your aunt and myself. Gold-handled, too.
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