The Wastrel did not relish this. Their example was immediately imitated by the officers, constables, javelin men, and other attendants; and nothing was to be heard but shouts of laughter and jesting,—nothing seen but the passing of glasses, and the emptying of foaming jugs. Lucy? Come 177 on out. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. McClintock will be tuning up the piano to-day. . To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. .
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