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"The poor foreign dey-vil that made it," went on Swithin, "asked me five hundred I gave him four. It's worth eight. Looked half-starved, poor dey-vil!" "Ah!" chimed in Nicholas suddenly, "poor, seedy-lookin' chaps, these artists; it's a wonder to me how they live.

"And what of Beverley poor dey-vil?" inquired the first. "Beverley!" repeated the other; "had he possessed any spirit he would have blown his brains out, like a gentleman; as it was, he preferred merely to disappear," and herewith the speaker shrugged his shoulders, and drank off his glass with infinite relish and gusto. "And a pretty filly, you say?" "Oh, I believe you!

Country bred, but devilish well-blooded trust Beverley for that." "Egad, yes Beverley had a true eye for beauty or breed, poor dey-vil!" This expression of pity seemed to afford each of them much subtle enjoyment. "Harking back to this filly," said the big man, checking his merriment, "how if she jibs, and cuts up rough, kicks over the traces devilish awkward, eh?"

"Because by dress it is possible to make something out of nothing!" "Explain yourself." "Why, there was the case of young Lord Ambleside, a nobleman remarkable for a vague stare, and seldom saying anything but 'What! or 'Dey-vil take me! though I'll admit he could curse almost coherently at times.

"The poor foreign dey-vil that made it," went on Swithin, "asked me five hundred I gave him four. It's worth eight. Looked half-starved, poor dey-vil!" "Ah!" chimed in Nicholas suddenly, "poor, seedy-lookin' chaps, these artists; it's a wonder to me how they live.