Ah, poor Queen Victoria! What a lot! To have the government of five-and-twenty million such!" "Not five-and-twenty millions," says Sabina.
"That would include the ladies; and we are not mad too, surely, your Excellency ?" The Polizeirath likes to be called your Excellency, of course, or any other mighty title which does or does not belong to him; and that Sabina knows full well.
"Ah, my dear madam, how do I know that?
The English ladies do every day here what no other dames would dare or dream--what then, must you be at home?
Ach! your poor husbands!" "Mr.Thurnall!" calls Marie, from behind.

"Mr.Thurnall!" Tom comes, with a quaint, dogged smile on his face.
"You see him, Mr.Stangrave! You see the man who risked for me liberty, life,--who rescued me from slavery, shame, suicide,--who was to me a brother, a father, for years!--without whose disinterested heroism you would never have set eyes on the face which you pretend to love.

And you repay him by suspicion--insult--Apologise to him, sir! Ask his pardon now, here, utterly, humbly: or never speak to Marie Lavington again!" Tom looked first at her, and then at Stangrave.

Marie was convulsed with excitement; her thin cheeks were crimson, her eyes flashed very flame.
Stangrave was pale--calm outwardly, but evidently not within.

He was looking on the ground, in thought so intense that he hardly seemed to hear Marie.