‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. “To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in the city. . . I was being stupid. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. Traversing what remained of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. But the sheer immensity of the tract! James Boyle was certainly up against it, hard. And, as usual,” she continued, a little bitterly, “I seem to have been sent along with the dullest and least edifying of Mrs. Will you take it in to him?” The young man smiled in a superior manner.
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