"What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. “Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to see her in a carriage. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. "Mine died while I was over here. “I never wanted to kick any one so much in my life as that second fellow. ‘I am sure you will. Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. “But your sister?” he asked. Mr. D. They are not your flowers.
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