"I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. "Stop a minute, my dear," cried Austin. " "Mr. elizabethbailey. I told him the truth. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. Even the chattering monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the smelly dark of the jungle. But I'm thinking of asking Josh Durkin.
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