Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. "Hear! hear!" vociferated Quilt. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. " "Hear me, Blueskin," said Jonathan, restraining his choler. "Think not to deceive me, monster. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting.
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