" "What's your name?" Ah Cum got out his black-bordered card and offered it. If he ran less risk of being blown over, he stood a much greater chance of being washed off, or stifled. And she—’ ‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly. . " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. ‘Wait a minute, though.
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