Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. "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. ‘Yes, but quite my own fault. \"Hardwood floors. “Yes. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried.
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