Now I ain’t saying as how that there Pottiswick—’ ‘How you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. I naturally want to do it up in proper style. But I should certainly want to be rid of Mr. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her.
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