"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. I’m a man, and I know what I mean. What part of 1902 is it that you grew up in?\" He poked fun at her, clearly infatuated. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. Cathy's eyes widened, her cheeks expanding to a smile. The roof was partially untiled; the chimneys were tottering; the side-walls bulged, and were supported by a piece of timber propped against the opposite house; the glass in most of the windows was broken, and its place supplied with paper; while, in some cases, the very frames of the windows had been destroyed, and the apertures were left free to the airs of heaven. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. " Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. I do not think you quite understand my ideals or what is becoming as between father and daughter.
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