" "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. She confronted him with his own double-standard. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow. "I have him!" cried a voice in triumph.
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