"I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him. " "Agreed. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. Lucy looked about confusedly. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. "You are a physician; you know the vagaries of men in liquor. Earles watched her anxiously. "Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. "Give me the link," cried Jonathan.
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