” She sniffled. He thrust out a rhetorical hand. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. He was not, it seemed, the proper stipendiary at all, and there had been some demur to his jurisdiction that had ruffled him. "He's safe enough, I assure you. “No, don’t interrupt me. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation. Just beyond there would be her heart's desire. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application.
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