Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. Oh, what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. Time enough to do so when she has her affairs settled—if she can settle them. “You may not leave.
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