. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. But I'll not believe it of you. “No, no, no. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. "Not entirely," replied Jonathan, calmly; "though I shouldn't be ashamed of it if it were. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street.
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