What the editor had to say none of the three cared just then. She knew blood was rushing to his face and other places as well. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood.
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