‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. ” “Oh no he doesn’t. ” She said warmly. ’ ‘Very true. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! III. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper.
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