Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. "God in Heaven!" he cried, "the floor is covered with blood. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone. If I do not look after her, she has no one. He glanced at his watch. Winifred, accordingly, left the room, and a servant being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. He drew compellingly upon his new characters to keep him out of this melancholy channel; but they ebbed and ebbed; he could not hold them.
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