The steps continued to ascend; the light in the corridor was very dim, but a moment later I perceived Monmouth and Carford.

Carford's arm was through his Grace's, and he seemed to be endeavouring to restrain him.

Monmouth shook him off with a laugh and an oath.
"I'm not going to listen," he cried.

"Why should I listen?
Do I want to hear the King praying to the Virgin ?" "Silence, for God's sake, silence, your Grace," implored Carford.
"That's what he does, isn't it?
He, and the Queen's Chaplain, and the----" "Pray, sir!" "And our good M.de Perrencourt, then ?" He burst into a bitter laugh as he mentioned the gentleman's name.
I had heard more than was meant for my ears, and what was enough (if I may use a distinction drawn by my old friend the Vicar) for my understanding.

I was in doubt whether to declare my presence or not.