"Fancy a man going to a sale with his friend, and bidding against him on the sly." "She is no friend of mine.

We are enemies for life." "And you were to be friends till death," said Staines, with a sigh.
Philip inquired who she was.
"Mrs.John Cole." "Not of Curzon Street ?" "Yes." "And you have quarrelled with her ?" "Yes." "Well, but her husband is a general practitioner." "She is a traitress." "But her husband could put a good deal of money in Christopher's way." "I can't help it.

She is a traitress." "And you have quarrelled with her about an old wardrobe." "No, for her disloyalty, and her base good-for-nothingness.

Oh! oh! oh!" Uncle Philip got up, looking sour.

"Good afternoon, Mrs.Christopher," said he, very dryly.
Christopher accompanied him to the foot of the stairs.