. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. ‘A French rat with exceedingly long arms, I see. Her sister had told him that it was true. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. " CHAPTER VI.
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