"I don't quite understand the application. “Mr. " "Wretches!" screamed the lady; "don't dare to breathe your vile insinuations against me! Oh! Mr. Let me see my child, if he is really here?" "Behold him!" returned Trenchard, taking Thames (who had been a mute, but deeply-interested, witness of the scene) by the hand, and leading him towards her. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard.
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