Brown broke the silence. " CHAPTER XV. ’ ‘Do you take me for a fool, Hilary?’ demanded his betrothed. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. What a pity! But why? There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. " "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard. ‘There is no question of a dispute. Never in this world! Let the hotel people take care of him; it's their affair.
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