"Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. ” “Think not,” that young man remarked laconically. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. On Monday Charvill had still not returned, and the major duly presented himself at Mrs Chalkney’s house in Grosvenor Square, thanking his stars that his friend Roding would not be there to spoil sport. Speedily recovering himself, however, he rejoined, with forced calmness, "You are mistaken, Sir. ‘Gammon. She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. Racing, he reached it perhaps a moment or two later.
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