"Come here and shake hands." Bill hesitated, spat out into the other room his quid of tobacco, and swayed awkwardly across the room toward the bed, and, taking Gwen's hand, he shook it up and down, and hurriedly said: "Fine day, ma'am; hope I see you quite well." "No; you don't," cried Gwen, laughing immoderately, but keeping hold of Bill's hand, to his great confusion.

"I'm not well a bit, but I'm a great deal better since hearing of your meeting, Bill." To this Bill made no reply, being entirely engrossed in getting his hard, bony, brown hand out of the grasp of the white, clinging fingers.
"Oh, Bill," went on Gwen, "it was delightful! How did you do it ?" But Bill, who had by this time got back to his seat at the door, pretended ignorance of any achievement calling for remark.

He "hadn't done nothin' more out ov the way than usual." "Oh, don't talk nonsense!" cried Gwen, impatiently.

"Tell me how you got Scottie to lay you two hundred and fifty dollars." "Oh, that!" said Bill, in great surprise; "that ain't nuthin' much.
Scottie riz slick enough." "But how did you get him ?" persisted Gwen.

"Tell me, Bill," she added, in her most coaxing voice.
"Well," said Bill, "it was easy as rollin' off a log.