The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. “How so?” “I should have shared these things with you earlier, my sweet heart. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. “Why?” he asked, suavely. “Lucy, you. By the by, my dear, I forgot to ask your name—perhaps you'll oblige me with it now? Hell and the devil!—gone!" He looked around in vain. " Mechanically raising the potion to her lips, the poor creature swallowed it without hesitation. I wonder,” he added, after a moment’s pause, “whether you ever realize how young you are. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. . ‘Eh bien, Eugénie.
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