“Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. The key is in my trousers. With this she now entered. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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