Page:A Literary Courtship (1893).pdf/186



HEN I got home, long after dark, I found John striding up and down my room in a blaze of glory from all the gas-burners, every one of which he had lighted up, for some reason best known to himself.

"Hullo!" said I. "Got back?"

To which original greeting he responded by wringing my hand unmercifully.

"Good heavens, Jack!" I groaned, partly from physical anguish, partly from