" "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. You come with those clear eyes of yours, as valiant as an angel. I want you to be my wife.
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