” He consumed Irish stew for some moments. If I do not look after her, she has no one. One nail drives out another, it's true; but the worst nail you can employ is a coffin-nail. ” “You could never be that,” he answered, “but you are at least more serious than usual. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey Hill or not. . The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered.
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