There must be another Elisha Warren.

Comforted by this thought, Mr.Graves opened his valise, extracted therefrom other and drier articles of wearing apparel, and proceeded to change his clothes.
Meanwhile, Miss Abigail had descended the stairs to the sitting room.
Before a driftwood fire in a big brick fireplace sat Captain Warren in his shirt-sleeves, a pair of mammoth carpet slippers on his feet, and the said feet stretched luxuriously out toward the blaze.
"Abbie," observed the captain, "this is solid comfort.

Every time I go away from home I get into trouble, don't I?
Last trip I took to Boston, I lost thirty dollars, and--" "Lost it!" interrupted Miss Baker, tartly.

"Gave it away, you mean." "I didn't _give_ it away.

I lent it.