" "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. . ” “You will make me horribly conceited,” he answered. If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. And he unsheathed his sword. Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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