"Then," said Ben, "our hunters are up from Belem. Anybody in from
Belem, John?"
"Oh yes, sir, every day."
"I'll look them up," he said to us; but he returned soon, and begged us not to look at Dickens, if we had a chance.
Veronica, with a sigh, gave him up, and lost a chance of being immortalized with that perpetual and imperturbable beefsteak, covered with "the blackest of all possible pepper," which was daily served to him.
Father being out in pursuit of a cigar, Ben asked Veronica what she would do while he was in Belem.
"Walk round this lion-clawed table."
"I shall be gone from you."
"Alas!"
"Are we to part this way?"
"Father," she cried, as he entered with a theater bill, "had I better marry this friend of Cassy's?"