’ He only laughed. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. It's exactly like a miniature I have in my pocket. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. Having secured this implement, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clockfaces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime,—that is, back foremost,— broke into a fit of loud and derisive laughter, kicking his heels merrily all the time against the boards. "Before I go," continued Sir Rowland, "I must beg of you to disclose to me all you know relative to the parentage of Thames Darrell. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. I’ll pay it.
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