Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. I’m making a mess of my life— unless you come in and take it.
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