“A thousand times better than you are!” exclaimed Bessie Dalton.
“Ish he?” This was said in a drawling tone and jeering manner.
“Yes, he is.”
“I’m not so sure about it. Why, Lord love yer, gal, don’t ye know what he ish—a burglar! Do ye hear—a burglar!”
Had a bomb-shell exploded in the room it could not possibly have caused greater consternation than did this declaration.
Peace was pale with rage.
“You infamous liar!” he exclaimed, in a voice of concentrated passion, walking up to the speaker, and shaking his fist in his face.
“Were it not that I respect your poor, ill-used wife—were it not that you are in a beastly state of intoxication, I would fell you to the earth.”
Bristow laughed derisively.
“You—you fell me to the earth,” he repeated, in a sneering tone.