” The conversation hung. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. “It was such a surprise to see you. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. ’ A trifle discomposed at being caught examining his surroundings, Gerald was provoked into retort. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket.
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