Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. You love money. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. After five or six years it would not be difficult to hide in Italy or in France. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked.
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