“You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son —perhaps, I ought rather to say your son, Mr. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. 216 “Please, get dressed. I deal with the Malay mostly; but twice a year I visit islands occupied by the true blacks, recently cured of their ancient taste for long-pig. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. It was only by the adoption of such a course (especially since the late act of suppression, to which we have alluded,) that the inviolability of the asylum could be preserved.
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