“Well, stranger, you were main right; though darn me con-siderable if I know how you discovered it. Don't you be a-goin', now that we 're gettin' friendly together. Set down a bit. Maybe you 'd taste a morsel of something.”
“Excuse me, I have just dined.”
“Well, mix a summut in your glass. It's a rare pleasure to me, stranger, to have a chat with a man as talks like a Christian. I'm tired of 'Come si fa,'—that's a fact, sir.”
“I regret that I cannot profit by your polite invitation,” said Ogden, bowing stiffly. “I had been directed to this house as the residence of Lord Agincourt and his tutor; and as neither of them live here—”
“Who told you that? There's one of them a-bed in that room there; he's caught swamp-fever, and it's gone up to the head. He's the tutor,—poor fellow.”
“And the Marquis?”
“The Marquis! he's a small parcel to have such a big direction on him, ain't he? He's at a villa, a few miles off; but he 'll be over here to-morrow morning.”
“You are quite sure of that?” asked Ogden.
“Yes, sir,” said Quackinboss, drinking off his glass, and nodding, in token of salutation.
“I must beg you to accept my excuses for this intrusion on my part,” began Ogden.