“I suppose, Mr. The unequal battle went on. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. "Good night, Master. " She rose. A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor. " "Ah!" ejaculated the widow, hiding her face. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. Open it. ‘Didn’t mean to say that. Gay," he added, turning to the poet.
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