But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night. Gerald went through all the papers in front of Gosse and that woman of his, one by one. "Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. "You are my prisoner. Rummage, my boy, do. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father.
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