‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. ’ ‘Very good, ma’am. "Those chops, fried potatoes, and buttered toast. Wood, with a candle in his hand, which Jack instantly blew out, and darted down stairs. ” The talk was animated, and remained always brilliant in form even when it ceased to be brilliant in substance. Please don’t tell anyone, mister. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue.
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