An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn. ’ She turned her head, eyes blazing. Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. They conversed, or more or less she interviewed him. Prudence reminded him that he was a county magistrate, and parliamentary candidate for a somewhat difficult borough, where his principal supporters were dissenters of strict principles who took a zealous interest in his moral character. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. He felt no pain from this cowardly kick. No sooner had Trenchard crossed the threshold than a fierce barking was heard at the farther extremity of the passage, and, the next moment, a couple of mastiffs of the largest size rushed furiously towards him.
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