Page 1093 - vanity-fair

what took place, which was briefly this:
A lady in a dripping white bonnet and shawl, with her
two little hands out before her, went up to him, and in the
next minute she had altogether disappeared under the folds
of the old cloak, and was kissing one of his hands with all
her might; whilst the other, I suppose, was engaged in hold-
ing her to his heart (which her head just about reached) and
in preventing her from tumbling down. She was murmur-
ing something about—forgive—dear William—dear, dear,
dearest friend—kiss, kiss, kiss, and so forth—and in fact
went on under the cloak in an absurd manner.
When Emmy emerged from it, she still kept tight hold
of one of William’s hands, and looked up in his face. It was
full of sadness and tender love and pity. She understood its
reproach and hung down her head.
‘It was time you sent for me, dear Amelia,’ he said.
‘You will never go again, William?’
‘No, never,’ he answered, and pressed the dear little soul
once more to his heart.
As they issued out of the custom-house precincts, Geor-
gy broke out on them, with his telescope up to his eye, and
a loud laugh of welcome; he danced round the couple and
performed many facetious antics as he led them up to the
house. Jos wasn’t up yet; Becky not visible (though she
looked at them through the blinds). Georgy ran off to see
about breakfast. Emmy, whose shawl and bonnet were off in
the passage in the hands of Mrs. Payne, now went to undo
the clasp of William’s cloak, and—we will, if you please, go
with George, and look after breakfast for the Colonel. The

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