He was in high spirits, and we were just crossing the street, when we came suddenly upon John Lister—so suddenly, that Tom observed my start.
“Who’s that?” he said quickly.
“One of our black clouds,” I said bitterly.
“Black clouds?” he said, in a puzzled tone.
“And yours, too,” I said, “if you talk like you did just now.”
“I like solving knotty points,” he said; “but you must give me a clue.”
“Not to-night, Tom,” I said. “Say good-night now. Some other time.”
“All right, my mysterious youth,” he cried, laughing; and after shaking hands, I hurried back, to find Mr Jabez standing at the door.
“Oh, here you are,” he said. “I am just waiting to say good-night. I say, Grace, is that fellow square?”
“I believe him to be a thorough scoundrel,” I said angrily.