“You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. "By the avenger of his family's dishonour—by your brother," he replied, coolly. "Do you think I'd part with the sweetest morsel of revenge on those terms? No! But I'll have the secret out of you by other means. “I’m inclined to think, Stanley, myself that as a matter of fact it was the expurgated Romeo and Juliet did the mischief. ” “When?” “At tea.
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