. 8. . Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. "I haven't a word to say, Ah Cum, not a word. "What the devil are you about! Will you allow yourself to be beaten by a couple of kids?" "Not if I can help it," returned Abraham, making a desperate effort to regain his feet. She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. .
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