"To be sure I will, my child. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. "But your threats won't prevent my leaving the room when I please, and as I please. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. "You must be a cleverer lad than even I take you for, if you get out of this place. I thought I’d see Paris, do the thing—like a toff. You have all the instinctive dexterity of parasites. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May.
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