" "What do you think of my sketch, Jack?" said Hogarth, handing him the drawing. The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. These two elderly ladies would call her stark mad. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account.
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