Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips. I want to be myself. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. . It was a dead calm. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood.
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