There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. " "There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly. "I'm armed; you are not. Stanley, at the door. ’ Mrs Sindlesham abruptly sat up straighter in her chair. You must let me do whatever I can for you. That's worth something to me; for I don't mind paying for revenge.
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