Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. “I do. " "That's not likely to be the case, if you go on in this way," replied Thames, sharply.
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