" "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. " "When you heard what was going on, why didn't you send for me?" "I didn't know it was going on. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows.
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