“I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her.
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