"'Pon my soul, I believe I'm on the right track.

Excuse me for continuing, but is he a count or a duke or just a--" "My father is dead," she interrupted, without taking her now serious gaze from his face.
"I beg your pardon," he said at once.

"I'm sorry if I've hurt you." "My mother is dead.

Now can you understand why I am living here with my uncle?
Even an amateur may rise to that.

Now, sir, do you expect to purchase the sword?
If not, I shall replace it in the window." "That's what I came here for," said he, resenting her tone and the icy look she gave him.
"I gathered that you came in the capacity of Sherlock Holmes--or something else." She added the last three words with unmistakable meaning.
"You mean as a--" he hesitated, flushing.
"You knew I was alone, sir." "By Jove, you're wrong there.