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Apparently, Mr. Cruncher did, to judge from his looks. He said

not a word, however, and Miss Pross, exploring the depths of her

reticule through her tears with great difficulty paid for her

wine. As she did so, Solomon turned to the followers of the Good

Republican Brutus of Antiquity, and offered a few words of

explanation in the French language, which caused them all to

relapse into their former places and pursuits.

"Now," said Solomon, stopping at the dark street corner, "what do

you want?"

"How dreadfully unkind in a brother nothing has ever turned my

love away from!" cried Miss Pross, "to give me such a greeting,

and show me no affection."

"There. Confound it! There," said Solomon, making a dab at Miss

Pross's lips with his own. "Now are you content?"

Miss Pross only shook her head and wept in silence.