"Come, come, Jack," said Thames, walking up to Sheppard, and taking his hand, "have done with this. We had no idea. But most of all, I wanted to love. Too much, perhaps. The child fell within a short distance of Darrell, who, hearing the splash, struck out in that direction, and caught it before it sank. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation.
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