She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. It was in this state that Mark McCloskey caught her. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. From other obscure hints dropped by the speakers, Mrs. "Sign this," he said, pushing the document towards Sir Rowland. The man’s statement was explicit, and spoken with confidence. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes.
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