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 man to be brought in here and fed on the fat of the land in this disgusting manner.

(imitating loafer)—'Taint so very disgusting, sir. That 'unters' beef is doocid good.

—Hold your tongue, sir! Now, Miss Edith, do you think that this—(pointing to table)—is the proper treatment for a common tramp who goes about the country assaulting innocent and gentle bunnias and knocking down constables like nine-pins?

(Edith, smiling to herself, has gone to side, and brings out a box of Manilla cheroots, takes out a handful, and lays them in front of Wilmot.)

—It is simply an incitement to crime, almost an abetment of felony, and—(taking up cheroots)—you mustn't give him these! They are Mr. Bulthrop's choicest manillas.

(severely).—Mr. Smallweed!

(sheepishly drops cheroots, looks at Wilmot, who returns his gaze steadily as he pockets the cheroots. Aside, as he turns down the stage, I don't half like that fellow!)

(to Wilmot).-Now, I think, you may go on with your breakfast.

(seating himself touches his forelock with a significant look at Edith).—Thankee kindly, Miss.

(sharply to Smallweed).—I thought you were in cutcherry, sir?

—Ah! Miss Bulthrop, why can't you be as kind to me as you are to that degraded wretch—that public enemy?

—We are commanded to love our enemies, you know.

—Yes, but not to give them pâté and Mr. Bulthrop's best cigars.

—Really, Mr. Smallweed.

—Pray forgive me; let us dismiss the ruffian from our minds. (Edith and Wilmot exchange glances.) I was thinking how delightful it would be for you to go with me this evening to see the stone from which I have got this lovely inscription. (Unfolds a very large paper with Sanscrit inscription in black and white.) Isn't it lovely? We could have such a delightful stroll among the ruins, and there would be a little moon to come home to dinner by.

.—Please hold the paper a little higher.