"Once!" she scoffed. "Oh, if you could but hear him speak of you! But I'll let you hear him speak to you, which perhaps you'll enjoy more. I know you've a prodigious great deal to say to one another, so I shall run away and leave you alone." She smiled graciously upon him, blew an airy kiss to her husband and went quickly out of the room.
Carstares closed the door behind her and came back to O'Hara, who had flung himself back into his chair, trying, manlike, to conceal the excitement he was feeling.
"Come, sit ye down, Jack, and let me have the whole story!"
My lord divested himself of his long cloak and shook out his hitherto tucked-up ruffles. From the pocket of his elegant scarlet riding coat he drew a snuff-box, which he opened languidly. With his eyes resting quizzically on O'Hara's face, he took a delicate pinch of snuff and minced across the room.
Miles laughed.
"What's this?"
"This, my dear friend, is Sir Anthony Ferndale, Bart.!" He bowed with great flourish.
"Ye look it. But come over here, Sir Anthony Ferndale, Bart., and tell me everything."
Jack perched on the edge of the desk and swung his leg.
"Well really, I do not think there is much to tell that you do not already know, Miles. You know all about Dare's card-party, for instance, precisely six years ago?"