"I understand," she said. Will you not, brother?" "Promise," said a deep voice in Trenchard's ear. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me. Sheppard. I have unfinished business.
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