" "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. From his pale skin and inky hair color it was apparent that his ancestry was half-Hispanic and half-European, perhaps French. ‘Oh, the Frenchie. In Hamilton Place that is, like I told you before, miss. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another.
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