"I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. While he was dragged along in the manner just described, Thames looked around to ascertain, if possible, where he was; for he did not put entire faith in Jonathan's threat of sending him to the round-house, and apprehensive of something even worse than imprisonment. ‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo. Master Thames Ditton, I'll do your biddin'; and you, Misther Quilt Arnold, may do your worst, I defy you.
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