Her heels made contact with Rhea’s knees and hobbled her with a crack. “If you attempted such a thing it would be in order that I should smack you hard with the palm of my hand upon the cheek. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the great shrouded shapes of the furniture. But in a moment she believed she understood.
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