Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. CHAPTER IV. "Your boast, you see, was a little premature, Mr. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. "To-morrow I will take you to him. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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