The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. "His shin may need rubbing. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. Though," said the thieftaker, with a complacent smile, "all the world seems to tremble at it. And now I've another job for you. If you’ve got anything to say, you must say it to your aunt—” “But look here, daddy!” He flapped the Times at her with an imperious gesture. I'll put a brace of dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes.
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