We're to be given a treat to-night. " The crowd accordingly drew aside, and the individual, in whose behalf the movement had been made immediately stepped forward. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application.
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