"Take off the ruffles, Blueskin," rejoined Wild. . "If I am the devil," observed Wild, "as some folks assert, and I myself am not unwilling to believe, you'll find that I differ from the generally-received notions of the arch-fiend, and faithfully execute the commands of those who confide their souls to my custody. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. They were terrible, horrible people. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. need me a little?" "Not a little, but a great deal. I feel beautiful. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men.
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