At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. Only promise me to amend—to quit your vile companions—and I will forgive you—will bless you. I want you to hold me and have me SO. “Want to see Mr. ” John replied. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. . ‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away.
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