"I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. She went to her own table and sat down. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. " "An excellent maxim!" replied his wife, approvingly; "the best I ever heard you utter. Anna, my love, you cannot have forgotten so soon. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip.
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