He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. ’ To his intense satisfaction, mademoiselle burst into laughter. Nevertheless, Ann Veronica found it a difficult matter not to think of these things. . . An hour was then passed in conversation as to the possibility of rendering any assistance to Jack; in deploring his unhappy destiny; and in the consideration of the course to be pursued in reference to Jonathan Wild. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally.
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