Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. “Lots of ‘em!” Capes chuckled. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. She told the porter to take it to the booking-office, and it was only after a disconcerting moment or so that she found she ought to have directed him to go to the cloak-room. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. " "I could make a fine sketch of him now," whispered Hogarth to Gay.
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