He was not particularly grateful for the present situation. He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. . ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. Montague Hill. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. This also struck her as odd. Then a hansom drove up, and his heart gave a great leap.
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