“A w—w—what?”
“A young girl, with black eyes; sparkling as diamonds—long dancing ringlets.”
“Whew!” whistled Tibbs. “Don’t I wish I had? Oh, the little charmer.”
“Wretch!” cried Albert, “have you seen her?”
“Do—do—you mean—Mrs. Tibbs?”
“Albert,” said Mr. Seyton, “we shall get no information from this man by angry questioning. Allow me to speak to him. Are you alone here, my friend?”
“No, I ain’t.”
“Who else inhabits this house?”
“Popsy. Hurrah—let’s have another bottle—never get drunk—don’t make a beast of yourself, old gentleman.”
“How long have you been here?”