"England or France, London or Paris, it's all one to me, so I've you to command me. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. There is worse to come. As to his mother, I've no pity for her. That's worth something to me; for I don't mind paying for revenge. You know they say, as, indeed, I have just quoted already, that all bad poetry is written in a state of emotion, but I have no doubt that this is true of bad offers of marriage. Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. And now I've another job for you. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him.
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