So long as a man behaves himself, I can't refuse him liquor. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood
Mr. . The youth with the
hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and
against the women’s vote. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears,
Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while
Blueskin resumed his song. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew,
could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the
almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. Throwing down the
pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all
like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when
Thames darted into the room. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. ”
She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. One glance through the window at that picturesque
head had been sufficient.
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