" "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood. 8. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. "Come out!" roared Quilt, looking into the aperture. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. ’ Roding gave him a look of respect.
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