He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet.
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