Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. It is useless to contend with him, even with right on your side. " Here a murmur of amazement arose from the assemblage outside. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. Which is C?” Ann Veronica, with a curious sinking of the heart, regarded the black cavities of the vans. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields.
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