CHAPTER XXIV.
"Penny," said Grief, looking across the table at his friend, "if a man thinks a heap of two violets, how much would he think of a thousand violets ?" "Two into a thousand goes five hundred times, you fool!" said Pennoyer.
"I would answer your question if it were not upon a forbidden subject." In the distance Wrinkles and Florinda were making Welsh rarebits.
"Hold your tongues!" said Hawker.

"Barbarians!" "Grief," said Pennoyer, "if a man loves a woman better than the whole universe, how much does he love the whole universe ?" "Gawd knows," said Grief piously.

"Although it ill befits me to answer your question." Wrinkles and Florinda came with the Welsh rarebits, very triumphant.
"There," said Florinda, "soon as these are finished I must go home.

It is after eleven o'clock .-- Pour the ale, Grief." At a later time, Purple Sanderson entered from the world.

He hung up his hat and cast a look of proper financial dissatisfaction at the remnants of the feast.