It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. . A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. ’ All at once Mrs Sindlesham looked across at him, a sharp question in her eyes. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. ” He replied. ” “Oh no,” said Ann Veronica; “I have some work to do.
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