Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. “She has always worked very long hours as a real estate agent. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk.
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