" The envelope contained exactly five hundred dollars. " "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. " "Enough," returned Jackson, extending his hand; "and if I've expressed myself warmly, I'm sorry for it likewise. But, be like a son to her. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. Suppose our proper place is a shrine. "How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so.
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