“Yes, a lady,” said Miss Thane.
“No sense in that,” said Sir Hugh, his interest fading. He went on eating, but added in a moment: “Couldn’t have been a smuggler.”
“He is a smuggler, a nobleman, and one of the most handsome young men I have ever clapped eyes on,” said Miss Thane. “Tell me now, did you ever hear of one Ludovic Lavenham?”
“No,” said Sir Hugh, exchanging his empty plate for one covered with slices of cold beef.
“Are you sure, Hugo? He was used to play cards at the Cocoa-Tree—rather a wild youth, I apprehend.”
“They fuzz the cards at the Cocoa-Tree,” said Sir Hugh. “It’s full of Greeks. Foulest play in town.”
“This boy lost a valuable ring at play there, and was afterwards accused of having shot the man he played against,” persisted Miss Thane.
“I was very nearly done-up myself there once,” said Sir Hugh reminiscently. “Found a regular Captain Sharp at the table, thought the dice ran devilish queerly—”
“Yes, dear, but do you remember?”
“Of course I remember. Sent for a hammer, split the dice, and found they were up-hills, just as I’d expected.”