" "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. The next moment he was by her side. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. Spit of your mother. . " "I don't care if he is," rejoined Thames, boldly.
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