"I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis. Pull over there. ” Anna had reached the house where she lodged, but she hesitated on the doorstep. At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. “He is a sad blunderer. ‘What now?’ ‘Now,’ she answered flatly, ‘you will please to tell me at once why you have come here.
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