” “Then perhaps,” she answered, with a new coldness in her tone, “perhaps I really do not care. Spurling in alarm. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. Good night! God bless you!" Upon this, there was a great shaking of hands, with renewed apologies and protestations of friendship on both sides; after which Mr. Norris was so frightened that she ordered the postboys to drive back as fast as they could. Many other wards,—especially on the Master Debtor's side,—have been necessarily omitted in the foregoing hasty enumeration. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view. Her steps slowed.
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