You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. Foolish compliments were tossed about like confetti. ‘Oh, peste. When I've escorted you proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard. 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. Poor little one. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs.
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