216 “Please, get dressed. ” Brendon rose and came towards her with outstretched hand. " "And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. There is no Heaven for your mother. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him.
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