260 “Can you turn me into one?” “Yes, I can turn you into one tonight. "Enough!" rejoined Wild; "he shall not return. Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. Taken altogether, his physiognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, or Estevanillo Gonzalez might have sat:—faces that almost make one in love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and enjoyment. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough.
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