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—BRENDON. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. Accidentally raising his eyes, he saw that he was perceived by the family from Dollis Hill, and that he was an object of the deepest interest to them. Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. I will permit you to rescue me. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. Can I be of any assistance? I can assure you that it would give me very much pleasure.
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