Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. With this person—who was no other than Mr. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. I do, however. ‘Yes, but quite my own fault. It was a reputation by no means deserved. . “Not at all. Let me go, Sir. There were two. Here lay a heap of knockers of all sizes, from the huge lion's head to the small brass rapper: there, a collection of sign-boards, with the names and calling of the owners utterly obliterated. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man.
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