Sit by who? By the object of his prepossession? He supposed he might, at dinner, or at a party, or a concert or a ball. "What! sit by the object you love best at a concert, and not whisper to her between the tunes--and you a Connaught man!" said Mr. O'Laugher. "Come, mend your reputation a little; wasn't that a slip you made, when you said now you'd never whispered to her at a concert?" Perhaps he had at a concert. "Well, now, I thought so. I thought by your complexion you wouldn't sit by a pretty girl, and take no notice of her. Did you never squeeze a girl's hand while you were whispering to her?" He couldn't remember. "Now, on your oath did you never squeeze a girl's hand?" He might have done so. "Did you never put your arm round a girl's waist?" At last the witness owned he might have done even that. "And now, one question, and I've done. Did you never kiss a girl?" No answer. "Come, that's the last. After all you've owned you needn't haggle at that; out with it, man, it must come at last. Did you never kiss a girl?" Alas for the sake of morality, the witness was at length obliged to own that he had perpetrated the enormity. "And," asked Mr. O'Laugher with a look of great surprise, "were you never proceeded against for damages? Was an action for breach of promise of marriage never brought against you?" No, never; the witness had never been in such a predicament. "What, never? You who have declared, I won't say unblushingly, for heaven knows you have blushed enough about it, but openly and on your oath, that you have always some different object of affection, with whom you walk, sit, talk, and whisper; whose hand you squeeze, round whose waist you put your arm (a crime, by the by, never imputed to my client), whom you even confess that you kiss; and yet you sit here secure, unassailed, unsolicited for damages, unengaged, as you lead us to suppose. What are the fathers and brothers of Connaught doing to let such a hydra-headed monster as thou near their doors--such a wolf into their sheep-pens? Go down, thou false Lothario. Go down, thou amorous Turk, and remember that a day of retribution may yet come for yourself." The unfortunate witness hurried out of court--ran through the pelting rain to the inn--crammed his brushes and pantaloons into the carpet-bag in spite of damp, farmers, and burly porter drinkers--paid a guinea for the bed in which he had never slept, and hiring a post-car, hurried from the scene of his disgrace, regardless of the torrents which were falling.