I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success. "What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. His smile faded. " Winifred was going to say "No," but she checked herself; and, with cheeks mantling with blushes, murmured, "I wish you wouldn't tease me about Jack Sheppard. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. He relayed many details of the location and the beautiful rivers of her home, a subject she never tired of. But I am sick of tearing up letters and hopeless of getting what I have to say better said.
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