” “Thank you,” Anna answered coldly. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. He looked the boy over with interest. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. The rest was easy. The supreme effect for Ann Veronica was its surpassing relevance; it made every other atmosphere she knew seem discursive and confused. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. ’ Gerald shrugged.
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