“Tell me their names—the swells, I mean.”
“What do you want to know for?” he asked.
She stared at him.
“What’s that to you?”
He bit his lip.
“You are no more civil than you used to be, Bella,” he said, meekly.
She laughed.
“No; I was never very civil to you, was I? I knew how to treat you, don’t you know. You’re the sort that must be beaten like a spaniel—you are, Mr. Bradstone. But answer my question, will you? Who are the swells in this forsaken hole?”
He pretended to consider for a moment.
“There is Lord Carfield, and a baronet named Penstone, and Lord Granville——”