'He had not yet read the newspaper, but who could tell when he might?
He might have had that damned journal in his pocket, and how should we know?
We were--I may say, we are--at the mercy of the merest twopenny accident.' 'Why, true,' said I: 'I had not thought of that.' 'I warrant you,' cried Romaine, 'you had supposed it was nothing to be the hero of an interesting notice in the journals! You had supposed, as like as not, it was a form of secrecy! But not so in the least.

A part of England is already buzzing with the name of Champdivers; a day or two more and the mail will have carried it everywhere: so wonderful a machine is this of ours for disseminating intelligence! Think of it! When my father was born--but that is another story.

To return: we had here the elements of such a combustion as I dread to think of--your cousin and the journal.

Let him but glance an eye upon that column of print, and where were we?
It is easy to ask; not so easy to answer, my young friend.

And let me tell you, this sheet is the Viscount's usual reading.