What shall I do with this ghost of a care
That makes my silly heart flutter and sink?
I will first kneel down and will say a prayer,
And then I'll ask Harry what I should think!
Harry stalk'd into my room in a rage—
'Hilton and Wilton have clear'd me out quite;
A run of ill luck at every stage—
Fifty pounds lost since you left us to-night!
I'll have my revenge on the rogues I vow!'
Marks of strange anger disfigure his face,