There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. This was just what he needed. Do I, Bess, eh?" "Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess; "nobody but me, dear. She said there was no other way to get them to stop their constant screaming. ’ He threw one arm across his own chest and clapped himself on the shoulder. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. It looks so French to be affectionate. You have been her guardian angel. Retribution has a queer way of acting sometimes. . —There, Mr.
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