Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over again. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. " O'Higgins tore free the scarlet band of his perfecto, the end of which he bit off with strong white teeth, and smiled. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. She fought him at first, screaming at him, but he did not relent. “But I have forbidden it!” he said, raising his voice.
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