At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. "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. We have to hang about in the interval. So Ruth returned to her room and sorted the books and magazines the doctor had loaned her, inspected the titles and searched for pictures. I stole away and walked to the railway station.
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