I am your servitor. Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. You are welcome to proclaim yourself ‘Alcide’ if you will. She pulled, he rose to his feet. " She opened the book which she had brought to the table. Ann Veronica’s desire to laugh unrestrainedly was checked by the tremendous earnestness of his expression. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously.
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