” His father interjected. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. “Ann Veronica is looking very well, don’t you think?” he said, a little awkwardly.
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