Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring.
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