“Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. . If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd doubtless wallop me on the jaw. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. There was no mistaking his intentions this time. Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. The boy would naturally attract the women, if the women were at all romantic. She recoiled. " "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him.
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