Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. Michelle stood perplexed. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. D'ye hear.
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