"Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. A few days ago I saw him leave your house. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. Thames Street was wholly impassable. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. I think a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a bachelor. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it.
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