“Oh, that. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. You mustn’t do things like that. And―and he wanted to help you. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy. E. Winifred, accordingly, left the room, and a servant being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid. “There’s the classes,” said Constance, the well-informed.
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