M. ” He replied cheerfully. ” She smiled faintly. I'm a slave to my word. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth.
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