‘But who is she?’
‘Lor! don’t you know?’
‘Speak, hound; speak!’
‘Lor! that is the beauty of the county; but then she is a Catholic. How shocking! Blow us all up as soon as look at us.’
‘If you do not tell me who she is directly, you shall never get into White’s. I will black-ball you regularly.’
‘Lor! man, don’t be in a passion. I will tell. But then I know you know all the time. You are joking. Everybody knows the beauty of the county; everybody knows May Dacre.’
‘May Dacre!’ said the Duke of St. James, as if he were shot.
‘Why, what is the matter now?’ asked Lord Bag-shot.
‘What, the daughter of Dacre of Castle Dacre?’ pursued his Grace.
‘The very same; the beauty of the county. Everybody knows May Dacre. I knew you knew her all the time. You did not take me in. Why, what is the matter?’