Apparently not, for he became gloomy again.

“Pretty witness,” he muttered, looking down into his glass. “I have had enough of witnesses today and tonight; who’s your pretty witness?”

“The picturesque doctor’s daughter, Miss Manette.”

“ She pretty?”

“Is she not?”

“No.”

“Why, man alive, she was the admiration of the whole Court!”

“Rot the admiration of the whole Court! Who made the Old Bailey a judge of beauty? She was a golden-haired doll!”