However, he burst into a loud laugh presently.
'Letty Lovelace!' says he.

'She's Letty Lovelace still; but Gad, such a wizened old woman! She's as thin as a thread-paper; (you remember what a figure she had:) her nose has got red, and her teeth blue.

She's always ill; always quarrelling with the rest of the family; always psalm-singing, and always taking pills.

Gad, I had a rare escape THERE.
Push round the grog, old boy.' Straightway memory went back to the days when Letty was the loveliest of blooming young creatures: when to hear her sing was to make the heart jump into your throat; when to see her dance, was better than Montessu or Noblet (they were the Ballet Queens of those days); when Jack used to wear a locket of her hair, with a little gold chain round his neck, and, exhilarated with toddy, after a sederunt of the Cuttykilt mess, used to pull out this token, and kiss it, and howl about it, to the great amusement of the bottle-nosed old Major and the rest of the table.
'My father and hers couldn't put their horses together,' Jack said.

'The General wouldn't come down with more than six thousand.