” “I suppose so. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply. In fact, it would not surprise me to discover that they were both Leonardo’s. "Coward!" cried Kneebone. Those I don’t mind, though, the games. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night.
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