The old gentleman chuckled.
“If you keep your ears open while you are in London, you will have plenty to repeat,” he said. “What is your name, young lady?”
“Anthea Forthingdale, sir.”
“I am the Marquis of Chale.”
Anthea gave a little gasp.
“I think I have heard of you, sir.”
“And nothing to my advantage, I’ll be bound!” the Marquis said. “If you want to know who these creatures are there is one that will amuse you!”
He pointed out a rather heavily built man who was dancing energetically with a very pretty woman wearing an egret in her hair.
“That is Alvanley,” he said. “He has plenty of wit and enjoys two things.”
“What are they?” Anthea asked.
“Gambling and cold apricot tart!”
Anthea looked at him to see if he was joking.
“It is true!” the Marquis protested. “He once found an
