You know they say, as, indeed, I have just quoted already, that all bad poetry is written in a state of emotion, but I have no doubt that this is true of bad offers of marriage. Wood, "because he found him in the river!—ha! ha!" "Ha! ha!" echoed Smith, taking another bumper of brandy; "he'll set the Thames on fire one of these days, I'll warrant him!" "That's more than you'll ever do, you drunken fool!" growled Jackson, in an under tone: "be cautious, or you'll spoil all!" "Suppose we send for a bowl of punch," said Kneebone. But you belong to me—and I want you. When I'm alone I don't mind.
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