Her raven
hair was ably parted and flattened on either side of her well-shaped head.
Sponge felt proud of the honour of having such a fine creature on his arm,
and kicked about in his tights more than usual.
The dinner, though it might show symptoms of hurry, was yet plentiful and
good of its kind; and if Bartholomew had not been always getting in Murry
Ann's way, would have been well set on and served. Jog quaffed quantities
of foaming bottled porter during the progress of it, and threw himself
back in his chair at the end, as if thoroughly overcome with his exertions.
Scarcely were the wine and dessert set on, ere a violent outbreak in the
nursery caused Mrs. Crowdey to hurry away, leaving Mr. Sponge to enjoy the
company of her husband.
'You'll drink (puff) fox-hunting, I s'pose,' observed Jog after a pause,
helping himself to a bumper of port and passing the bottle to Sponge.
'With all my heart,' replied our hero, filling up.
'Fine (puff, wheeze) amusement,' observed Mr. Crowdey, with a yawn after
another pause, and beating the devil's tattoo upon the table to keep
himself awake.
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