‘They cannot be worse than mine in English, monsieur. William Kneebone was a woollen-draper of "credit and renown," whose place of business was held at the sign of the Angel (for, in those days, every shop had its sign), opposite Saint Clement's church in the Strand. Never any doubt of it. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. " "I could make a fine sketch of him now," whispered Hogarth to Gay. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard. But now it was all over, and Alice was getting on well. The cloth nearly touches the floor. You will have lots of time on your hands. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation.
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