Still, it was true about men. It is not for myself I fear. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. It is the bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle. Here," he added, throwing a handbill on the bed, "are the particulars of the burglary, with the reward for Jack's apprehension.
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