" "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. . She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. ‘I have no idea. ‘Let it fall!’ ‘Brute!’ she spat, struggling, and he knew at once he had guessed aright.
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