"You are master of every farthing I possess." "Hum!" exclaimed Parravicin, taking up a pack of cards, and snapping them between his finger and thumb.

"You are married, Captain Disbrowe ?" "What if I am ?" cried the young man, becoming suddenly pale; "what if I am ?" he repeated.
"I am told your wife is beautiful," replied Parravicin.
"Beautiful!" ejaculated Pillichody; "by the well-filled coffers of the widow of Watling-street! she is an angel.

Beautiful is not the word: Mrs.Disbrowe is divine!" "You have never seen her," said the young man, sternly.
"Ha!--fire and fury! my word doubted," cried the major, fiercely.

"I have seen her at the play-houses, at the Mulberry-garden, at court, and at church.

Not seen her! By the one eye of a Cyclops, but I have! You shall hear my description of her, and judge of its correctness.
_Imprimis_, she has a tall and majestic figure, and might be a queen for her dignity." "Go on," said Disbrowe, by no means displeased with the commencement.
"Secondly," pursued Pillichody, "she has a clear olive complexion, bright black eyes, hair and brows to match, a small foot, a pretty turn-up nose, a dimpling cheek, a mole upon her throat, the rosiest lips imaginable, an alluring look--" "No more," interrupted Disbrowe.