Forgive me?” She pleaded. Coffee à la Turque wasn't so bad; but a guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. "No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the latter proposition. Please sit with me. “You will have some tea?” she asked. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. Jack! Mon dieu, but he was unarmed.
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