I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. This time she tried to kill me with a dagger. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. There was also a Maze, (the name is still retained in the district,) into which the debtor could run, and through the intricacies of which it was impossible for an officer to follow him, without a clue. . Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him.
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