“Forty guineas a week. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. 133 “TRY ME!” He yelled, his voice booming into the cacophony beyond the walls. He would read the jokes and illustrate them; and after a time I could see the point of a joke without having it explained to me. ‘That’s better. I bored him. “Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. ’ She was about to develop this theme, when Jack’s gaze became fixed, and his expression changed.
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