He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. Her dress, it has just been said, was neatness and simplicity itself.
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