"So his name is 'Tristram'!" She had actually never heard it before, nor troubled herself to inquire about it.

It seemed incredible, it aroused in her a grim sense of humor, and she looked into the old Duke's face for a second and wondered what he would say if she announced this fact, and he caught the smile, cynical though it was, and continued: "I see you have noticed his laziness! Now it will really be your duty to make him a first-rate fighter for our cause.

The Radicals will begin to attack our very existence presently, and we must all come up to the scratch." "I know nothing as yet of your politics," Zara said.

"I do not understand which party is which, though my uncle says one consists of gentlemen, and the other of the common people.

I suppose it is like in other countries, every one wanting to secure what some one above him has got, without being fitted for the administration of what he desires to snatch." "That is about it," smiled the Duke.
"It would be reasonable, if they were all oppressed here, as in France before the great revolution, but are they ?" "Oh! dear, no!" interrupted Tristram.