Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. He returned to the car, Cokes in hand. That he had resolved upon its execution, whatever it might be, was evident from his saying aloud,— "I will do it. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast.
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