Dorrimore's coach was drawn to one side and Dorrimore himself was striding impatiently up and down, occasionally refreshing himself with a pinch of snuff and indulging in oaths more or less elegant.
"Where the devil have you been, Rofflash ?" he cried, testily.

"And where the devil's the girl ?" "She'll be safe in your hands shortly, Mr.Archibald, never fear." "What, have you got her ?" "Not quite, but almost as good.

The spark whose arms she jumped into is her gallant, you may lay your life, and----" "By thunder, if that's so I'll--I'll run him through, I will, by God!" "Softly--softly.

All in good time.

By a bit of luck I came across a friend who knows him and has engaged to run him to earth.