She could think of nothing more to say. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her, preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. Sir John felt hot and furious. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver.
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