Panting with effort, she held her point menacingly at Gosse’s chest. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. He refused. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. “They wanted me to identify some one whom I had certainly never seen before in my life, and to tell you the truth, they were positively rude to me because I could not. ‘Mary was indeed naïve, but there I should say the similarity ends. ’ ‘I’ve a good mind to leave the pair of you to it and take myself off,’ threatened his junior, marching across the room and snatching up a decanter.
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