“You certainly got him in the bag. "What's to be done next?" cried Blueskin, returning to Rachel, who was standing with Edgeworth Bess near the door. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard.
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