Earles strode into the waiting-room. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. "Of course, therefore," pursued Jonathan, "you are acquainted with all the leaders of the proposed insurrection,—nay, must be in correspondence with them. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper.
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