"What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. Tell me how are you amusing yourself?” Anna laughed. " "For mercy's sake, go on!" cried Winifred. "No such thing," rejoined Thames.
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