I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. I wanted John to be proud to be seen with me. Ousted from his old retreat, the Cross Shovels, Baptist Kettleby opened another tavern, conducted upon the same plan as the former, which he denominated the Seven Cities of Refuge. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. Taken altogether, his physiognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, or Estevanillo Gonzalez might have sat:—faces that almost make one in love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and enjoyment. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. Promise me that you will not disobey the injunctions of her whose memory we must both of us ever revere. . Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters.
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