She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. "I was merely about to observe that I am in possession of her secret. ’ She put in her request for this requirement immediately on returning to the little parlour downstairs, and instantly fell foul of Captain Roding again. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage.
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