"My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. Stanley. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. They send you every good wish. I’ve thought that out, and you must make up your mind to it. ” “You have not seen the evening paper?” “No.
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