The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. "I shall want nothing more. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you. ” “Not yet. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. “She must go her own way. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. They're gone into the next room.
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