She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. " "Vouldn't it!" replied Jack, mimicking his snuffling voice; "then shtay vere you are, and be cursed to you. “Showtime!” Martin cried. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude.
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