E. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. ‘I am saying so,’ protested Gerald mildly. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. The man was my husband. ’ ‘Woof!’ uttered the sergeant, jumping back. His curiosity put itself into a question. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. I will not be persecuted in this way by you. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. "It is", seplied Winifred; "have you brought any tidings of Thames Darrell!" "Troth have I!" replied Terence: "but, bless your angilic face, how did you contrive to guess that?" "Is he well?—is he safe?—is he coming back," cried the little girl, disregarding the question.
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