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. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. "Caught!" shouted the head-turnkey. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. And for my part, if I were inclined to exercise my benevolence at all, it should be in favour of some more deserving object than that whining, hypocritical Magdalene.
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