The young gentleman held it between his finger and thumb as if he was afraid it would scorch him.
'Ah.' He turned to me. 'Is this gentleman a friend of yours?'
'He's a friend of my husband's.'
I said it pretty briskly--because I didn't mean to have Mr. FitzHoward sat upon, even though he would talk silly.
'May I speak in front of him?'
'Certainly. I have no secrets from Mr. FitzHoward.
The absurd man must put in his word. He pulled up his shirt collar and arranged his tie.
'Thank you, Marchioness, for this mark of your confidence; though, knowing you as I do, I have no hesitation in saying that it's no more than I expected. I may take this opportunity of informing the gentleman that I was on the most intimate terms with the late Marquis, both as regards business and friendship.'
'The late Marquis?'
'The late Marquis is what I said, and the late Marquis is what I meant. He was known to the public, with whom he had a world-wide reputation, as that Marvel of the Age--Montagu Babbacombe.'