Now he quietly readjusted his cravat, made a vigorous effort to re-conquer his breath, and said firmly as soon as he could contrive to speak at all: "And if you did strangle me, Sir Percy, you would do yourself no good.

The fate which I have mapped out for Lady Blakeney, would then irrevocably be hers, for she is in our power and none of my colleagues are disposed to offer you a means of saving her from it, as I am ready to do." Blakeney was now standing in the middle of the room, with his hands buried in the pockets of his breeches, his manner and attitude once more calm, debonnair, expressive of lofty self-possession and of absolute indifference.

He came quite close to the meagre little figure of his exultant enemy, thereby forcing the latter to look up at him.
"Oh!...

ah!...

yes!" he said airily, "I had nigh forgotten...