1 To-the-Crows: the Athenian equivalent for our o'-the-
Devil: a gambler's journey: not often a long one.
Miss Gryll. He was too dashing, uncle: he gambled. I did like him, till I discovered his evil propensity.
Mr. Gryll. To Sir Alley Capel? 'My dear Marcotta, all's well that mix well.
Miss Gryll. He speculated; which is only another name for gambling. He never knew from day to day whether he was a rich man or a beggar. He lived in a perpetual fever, and I wish to live in tranquillity.
Mr. Gryll. To Mr. Ballot?
Miss Gryll. He thought of nothing but politics: he had no feeling of poetry. There was never a more complete negation of sympathy, than between him and me.
Mr. Gryll. To Sir John Pachyderm?
Miss Gryll. He was a mere man of the world, with no feeling of any kind: tolerable in company, but tiresome beyond description in a tête-à-tête. I did not choose that he should bestow all his tediousness on me.
Mr. Gryll. To Mr. Enavant?
Miss Gryll. He was what is called a fast man, and was always talking of slow coaches. I had no fancy for living in an express train. I like to go quietly through life, and to see all that lies in my way.