CHAPTER XII. " "I mean to say, Sir," answered Mrs. ” The brutality of his first astonishment was evaporating. ’ Gosse’s eyes went to the portrait, and evidently took in the uncanny resemblance, looking from it to Melusine and back again. Finger to his lips, Gerald pointed in the direction of the noise. "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. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel.
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