"You pretend that the Deluge washed away iniquity, and that a rake is a fossil.

What," said he, leaning as it were on every word, "if I bet you a cool hundred that Vane has a petticoat in that room, and that Mrs.Woffington shall unearth her ?" The malicious dog thought this was the surest way to effect a dramatic exposure, because if Peggy found Mabel to all appearances concealed, Peggy would scold her, and betray herself.
"Pomander!" cried Vane, in great heat; then, checking himself, he said coolly: "but you all know Pomander." "None of you," replied that gentleman.

"Bring a chair, sir," said he, authoritatively, to a servant; who, of course, obeyed.
Mrs.Clive looked at him, and thought: "There is something in this!" "It is for the lady," said he, coolly.

Then, leaning over the table, he said to Mrs.Woffington, with an impudent affectation of friendly understanding: "I ran her to earth in this house not ten minutes ago.
Of course I don't know who she is! But," smacking his lips, "a rustic Amaryllis, breathing all May-buds and Meadowsweet." "Have her out, Peggy!" shouted Cibber.

"I know the run--there's the covert! Hark, forward! Ha, ha, ha!" Mr.Vane rose, and, with a sternness that brought the old beau up with a run, he said: "Mr.Cibber, age and infirmity are privileged; but for you, Sir Charles--" "Don't be angry," interposed Mrs.Woffington, whose terror was lest he should quarrel with so practiced a swordsman.