Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. "She wouldn't let me go. " "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously.
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