’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured. As to his mother, I've no pity for her. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. If I might take the liberty, Sir John,” he added, with a humorous gleam in his eyes, “I should like to congratulate you upon your tie. —Gentlemen, your most obsequious trout. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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