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S. Hetty, who had periods of lucid expression, put the thing for her from her pillow. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. "You will not make it valueless in my eyes," he added, catching her in his arms, and pressing her to his breast. You would find things to laugh at even in Artemus Ward. " CHAPTER V.
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