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Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. He continued his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader. " "Probably not. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. ’ ‘Parbleu, but I find you excessively rude,’ she snapped, marching to meet him. Winny, my love, come with me. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations.
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