"I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense. He savored the last solo, the coda. I am a resolute man, and hitherto when I have wanted a thing I have got it; but I have never yet wanted anything in my life as I have wanted you. And the opportunity to share in your exciting adventures was just too tempting to be put aside. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. At least I can give you a glimmer.
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