270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water. They were horrible people. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. "I guess who you mean," rejoined Shotbolt. " Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell. " The spinster had no retort to offer such directness. Her unnatural calm was giving way. “No,” said Ann Veronica, “but I want to know.
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