. It’s my choice, Lucy. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. Ah! what's that?" he exclaimed, as some one brushed hastily past him. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. Presently McClintock came in. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said.
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