From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. " "Where did you get it?" inquired Thames. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. Let us proceed with our tale. I don’t care! I’m glad I did. Why, there's another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any on us. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. It had been intensified and corrupted by time, as if to add insult to injury.
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