From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. It vosh plain he vent dat vay. "I thought you were asleep. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. Before I sit down, I have a toast to propose, which I am sure will be received, as it deserves to be, with enthusiasm. . "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son.
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