Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Then they discoursed on love for a time, and Alderman Dunstable, turning back to the shy, blond young man and speaking in undertones of the utmost clearness, gave a brief and confidential account of an unfounded rumor of the bifurcation of the affections of Blinders that had led to a situation of some unpleasantness upon the Borough Council. "Off with you to Newgate!" cried Jack, "and don't let him out till you get inside the Lodge. She was making it up. On your own.
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