'Where did you get it ?' 'I didn't steal it, Dick.' 'I don't suppose you did; but I'm sure it's the book I say.' 'No doubt it is.

If you think it is in bad hands, shall I give it back to you ?' 'I don't want it.

If she gave it you, she was a fool for her pains.' 'I don't see that.' 'I would rather, at any rate, that you would not lend a book with my sister's name in it to Mrs.Smith.' 'I was not thinking of doing so.

She wants a Shakespeare that I have got here, and a volume of Tennyson.' Then Dick retreated back into his berth, and snored again, while Caldigate dressed himself.

When that operation was completed,--which, including his lavations, occupied about five minutes,--he went up on the deck with the books for Mrs.Smith in his hand, and with Thomson's 'Seasons' in his pocket.