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In an instant the angel form of Mercy melted away and there stood the devil with his arms folded. "Murder! fire! rape! thieves! what, Nephew Jennings, is that you, with all my honey pots? Help! help! help!" "Phew-w-w!" whistled the devil: "I tell you what, Master Simon, you must quiet the old woman, she bellows like a bull, the house'll be about your ears in a twinkling she'll hang you for this!"
"It's the Fifth," he blurted out. "They've got Scaife in there, you know." "Oh, indeed! Scaife is an excuse, is he, for this fiendish row? Go and tell Scaife I want to see him." John looked rather frightened. He felt like a spaniel about to retrieve a lion. And scurrying along the passage he ran headlong into the Duffer, to whom he explained his errand. "Phew-w-w!" said that young gentleman.
Lifting up his ruddy face, a ray of sunshine, filtering through the tremulous leaves of the cottonwoods, fell full upon his chestnut curls, and each drop of water on his hair became of a sudden a gem of prismatic colour and most brilliant lustre. "Phew-w-w!" said Bumblepuppy. "I hope Mis' Janssen ain't feelin' as warm as I am."
In an instant the angel form of Mercy melted away and there stood the devil with his arms folded. "Murder! fire! rape! thieves! what, Nephew Jennings, is that you, with all my honey pots? Help! help! help!" "Phew-w-w!" whistled the devil: "I tell you what, Master Simon, you must quiet the old woman, she bellows like a bull, the house'll be about your ears in a twinkling she'll hang you for this!"
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