Wood was scarcely seated before Mr. Ennison paused by the little gate. Time after time he sent Spurlock into this corner or that; but always the boy regained his feet before the murderous boot could reach the mark. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. 1 through 1. "No, I don't. The boy would never know just how lucky he was. 8.
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