Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 90: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

eS APPREHENSIONS | 73 “No, not coldly,’’ rejoined Petersfield, ‘“ but I am not as yet assured, — that is to say, I have not yet had leisure to make up my mind whether you are Sir John Marston or not, and I should not like to come toa hasty con- clusion.”’ ‘What nonsense is this, Petersfield? ’’ exclaimed Marston, with a movement of impatience; then, as he threw himself upon a seat, he said, “‘ Come, throw off this diplomatic cautiousness and reserve oi yours, for we have to speak upon important business, I can tell you.” . “Well, then,” said the diplomatist, ‘‘ granting that you are Sir John Marston, and considering from the corroborative evidence of your printed card, coupled with your own deliberate averment, that you may be so —”’ “Why, you know I am,” ejaculated Marston, stamping his foot with another paroxysm of impatience. ‘“‘ What the devil makes you go on in this rigmarole style? Surely a matter of some sixteen years or so has not so changed me that you do not recognize me? ”’ ‘“‘ Personal appearance is not always a trustworthy creden- tial,’ remarked Lord ‘Petersfield. ‘‘ But still, as I was saying —”’ “The deuce take what you were saying!’ interrupted the baronet. ‘I will very soon give you a proof that I am that selfsame Sir John Marston — Lady Everton’s brother — with whom you and the present Lord Everton did a certain business.” “Enough!” said his lordship, now looking anxiously around; then rising from his seat, he advanced to the door, opened it, looked cautiously out, and satisfying himself that there were no eavesdroppers, closed it again. ‘‘ Now, pir John Marston, what business has procured me the honour — I might perhaps say the pleasure — of this visit? ” “That very same business to which I have already al- luded,’”’ responded the baronet. ‘‘ Do you know, my lord, that a certain young lady has discovered a clue — ”’ “ Kh, what?’’ ejaculated his lordship, now speaking rapidly enough, and his diplomatic countenance, suddenly losing all its gravity, became expressive of the utmost agitation. ‘“‘Do you mean Elizabeth Paton, — or the Marchioness of Villebelle, or whatever she may call herself? ”’ “I do,” replied Sir John, “ and if I be not very much CORNICLO@QC cS (C(O) \