" "Thames Ditton—is that your name?" "No," replied the boy, impatiently; "Darrell—Thames Darrell. " So saying, he threw himself into a chair. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. ‘Kill him? Oh. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. The arrival of la tante Prudence late next day had changed all this, it is true. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry.
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