And the woollen-draper departed. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. " ***** "To me, you dirty blackguard!" cried Spurlock, flinging aside his helmet. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents.
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