"Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive," replied Jack. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined all the proffered courtesies. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air.
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