Poor I may be," he announced inconsecutively, "but I wouldn' live the life of one of them there women of fashion, not for a million of money." He ruminated for a moment.

"Did I say a million ?" "You did." "Well I don't wishaggerate.

I don't, if you understand me, wish--to--exaggerate: so we'll put it at half a million." "All right: jump up!" To my astonishment, no less than to Mr.Jope's (who had scarcely time to skip back into the coach), the man scrambled up to his seat without more ado, flicked his whip, and began to urge the horse forward.

At the end of five minutes or so, however, he pulled up just as abruptly.
"Eh ?" Mr.Jope put forth his head.

"Ah, I see--public-house!" He alighted, and entered; returned with a pot of porter in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other; dexterously tipped half the brandy into the porter, and handed up the mixture.