CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. It's plain he don't understand our lingo; as, how should he? Take pattern by me;" and as he said this he strode up to the carpenter, and, slapping him on the shoulder, propounded the following questions, accompanying each interrogation with a formidable contortion of countenance. A woman’s shoe lay on the threadbare carpeting. Ain't we, partner?" he added, appealing to Langley, whom punch had made rather dozy. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. It’s wrong in the eyes of most people. Good night.
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