Digital primer

'Who are you? where am I? what the deuce do you mean by breaking my specs?'
he exclaimed, squinting frightfully at his host.
'My dear sir,' exclaimed Mr. Jawleyford, from the top of his night-shirt,
'I'm very sorry, but--'
'Hang your _buts_! you shouldn't ride so near a man!' exclaimed Jack,
gathering up the fragments of his spectacles; when, recollecting himself,
he finished by saying, 'Perhaps I'd better go to my own room.'
'Perhaps you had,' replied Mr. Jawleyford, advancing towards the door to
show him the way.
'Let me have a candle,' said Jack, preparing to follow.
'Candle, my dear fellow! why, it's broad daylight,' replied his host.
'Is it?' said Jack, apparently unconscious of the fact. 'What's the hour?'
'Five minutes to eight,' replied Jawleyford, looking at a timepiece.
When Jack got into his own den he threw himself into an old invalid chair,
and sat rubbing the fractured spectacles together as if he thought they
would unite by friction, though in reality he was endeavouring to run the
overnight's proceedings through his mind.


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