"The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. "Fifty now and fifty when I return. ” Her eyes were lit with humour. What a pity! But why? There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. In their happiest times, he was the most faithful and devoted of husbands. The next instant, he was launched into eternity! Scarcely had he been turned off a moment, when a man with swarthy features leapt into the cart with an open clasp-knife in his hand, and, before he could be prevented, severed the rope, and cut down the body. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. What’s the name of the happy man?” Gwen owned to “Fortescue.
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