The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. " "You shall first go to Bridewell, you jade!" rejoined Kneebone. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. “No lecturing, Anna!” she exclaimed.
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