"Only this--the new Lord Chancellor's the man I called a barber's clerk."
"Tommy! How horrible!"
"It does seem pretty lively. You should have seen how he looked at me when Datchet just now introduced us. Unless I am mistaken in the gentleman, when this little affair of ours leaks out, and I'm brought up in front of him and he sees who I am, he'll straightway consign me to the deepest dungeon, and keep me there, at any rate as long as he's Lord Chancellor. It's only a cheerful little prophecy of mine. But you mark my words, and see."
"My poor dear boy! Whatever shall we do?"
"There's one thing I should like to do, and chance it; I should like to kick Sir Tristram Triggs!"
"Kick who? Sir Tristram Triggs! Tommy! Why would you like to kick Sir Tristram Triggs?"
"That's the beggar's name."
"The beggar's name? Can it be that Sir Tristram Triggs is the new Lord Chancellor?" She threw out her arms with a gesture of burlesque melodrama. "Tommy! Kiss me! Quick. Before I faint!"
"I never saw a chap like you for kissing."
"That's a pretty thing to say! Although we may be married, sir, we have not yet been upon our honeymoon."