(The continuation of this remarkable story will be found on Dickey Series B, which may be bought from almost any haberdasher.)
As Dennis reached this announcement his head throbbed violently.
He had raced so apace with the movement of the tale that he had not remarked, in his absorption, an unfamiliar congestion about the base of his brain.
Directly, however, he was convinced of its disagreeable presence when this abrupt conclusion, which he had come to expect at the end of each bosom, materialized to his irritated anticipation.
He was no longer inclined to admire the calculating genius of the italicized phrase.
A temperance lecture was aching its way through his head. His conscience seemed to have decided to reside in the pit of his stomach, and a sense of surrender and defeat humiliated him.
His room looked cell-like.
The arrow pointing to the fire-escape seemed full of menace.
His face, reflected from the dingy glass, had never appeared so ugly and reproachful.