He's made of tissue-paper,--not tissue--and apple-jelly.

Yes, but a stiff little backbone, too, or he'd not have faced me down." Masson talked as though he were trying to gain time.

"He said three minutes," she returned with a look of death in her face.

As George Masson had talked with the Clerk of the Court, she had come to see, in so far as agitation would permit, that he was not the same as when he left her by the river the evening before.
"There's no time to waste," she continued.

"You spoke of farewells--twice you spoke, and three times he spoke of farewells between us.