" Lady Trafford sighed deeply. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. Then the girl was heading past the inn and Roding marched down to confront her. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily. Quick, now. He remained listening attentively.
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