"How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. “Well, anyhow, consider it open. I have always had a secret crush on him, to be honest with you. Home!— which I never hoped to see again.
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