His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. 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. Did he like freaks? She opened her black umbrella, her giant sun deflector. "Been to those places?" "No. “We banished his experiments to here in the basement from then on.
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