On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. ’ ‘Get going, then,’ Trodger told his men. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. “You’d have to think how to get in between his bones. The fashions of the day have become antiquated. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. But don't suppose, Madam, that anything I say has reference to you. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. She refused to eat.
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