Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. He was an outside broker and the proprietor of a financial newspaper; he had come up very rapidly in the last few years, and Mr. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. “Come to my rooms and have a drink. "And now, farewell, Mr. ’ ‘No, I won’t.
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