” And thus it was that as Ann Veronica neared the gates of home, she said to herself: “I’ll have it out with him somehow. It doesn’t seem to matter. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. “I ought to have done. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. "No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again.
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