"Turn your head, Lord Eure; he is sitting behind you, on the barons' benches."
Lord Eure turned, but Gwynplaine's face was concealed under his forest of hair.
"So," said the old man, who could see nothing but his hair, "he has already adopted the new fashion. He does not wear a wig."
Grantham accosted Colepepper.
"Some one is finely sold."
"Who is that?"
"David Dirry-Moir."
"How is that?"
"He is no longer a peer."
"How can that be?"