"By my shoul!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips, "dat ish goot—very goot. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone. At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up to Thames.
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