Left alone with Edgeworth Bess, Jack burst into a loud laugh of exultation. Ah Cum was more or less familiar with alcoholic types. He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. Naturally it all came out then. "Rather a devil," groaned her son, "to have done this. He sat down. Now lend me your own hand. "Granted it were as you say, Jack," said Wild;—"and I sha'n't take the trouble to contradict you—the estates would be yours hereafter.
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