She twanged the catgut under her fingers. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. She—She can snub him. “Never heard anything of it. I did not know what I was saying. But this only incensed the assailing party the more. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed.
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