I throw me rein to the man.

I inter the hall and place me hat and gloves in order as they should be.

I appear--Battersleigh, a gintleman, appears, standin' in the dure, the eyes of all upon him.

I bow, salutin', standin' there, alone, short on allowance, but nate and with me own silf-respect.

Battersleigh, a bit low in kit and in allowance, with white at neck and wrist, bows, and he says, 'Ladies and gintlemen, Battersleigh is here!'".