But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. "Come to my arms, Thames! Oh! dear! Oh! dear!" To repeat the questions and congratulations which now ensued, or describe the extravagant joy of the carpenter, who, after he had hugged his adopted son to his breast with such warmth as almost to squeeze the breath from his body, capered around the room, threw his wig into the empty fire-grate, and committed various other fantastic actions, in order to get rid of his superfluous satisfaction—to describe the scarcely less extravagant raptures of his spouse, or the more subdued, but not less heartfelt delight of Winifred, would be a needless task, as it must occur to every one's imagination. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. “Don’t lie to everyone, Lucy! You know it’s the truth!” Michelle defended herself. "When did you see him, my love?" "A short time ago," replied the housekeeper, unsuspiciously. "Remember the devil!" retorted Terence, who had recovered his natural audacity.
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