In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. "Bring the light, Nab. Whoever chose to incur the risk of so doing might enter the Mint at any hour; but no one was suffered to depart without giving a satisfactory account of himself, or producing a pass from the Master. She colored faintly. Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. ” “Why not? Your spirits at least should be good.
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