Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. "Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. ’ ‘Ah yes. She paused. They got in my mouth.
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