"Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. . " "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. "Where did you get this from?" asked Wild, greatly surprised at the result of his investigation. A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. ‘And I do not know why you are so polite, when you have been bad to me last night, and have taken my dagger. She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. "You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan.
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