"So I think," replied Kneebone, again applying to the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry glance levelled at him by his companion. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. A good deal of the food will be in tins. " "Poh! poh! say no more about it," rejoined the man hastily. “Don’t you care for Mr. He was all alone, too.
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