The last time Pottiswick had called out the militia on suspicion of intruders in Remenham House, a large rodent had been all the spoil. On the contrary, he was a universal favourite, and numbered amongst his intimate acquaintances the choicest spirits of the time,—Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the better brothers. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. I do not care in the least. Captain Roding strode into the parlour. Ain't we, partner?" he added, appealing to Langley, whom punch had made rather dozy. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry.
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