You have neither reason nor logic. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. Do not disquiet yourself. See paragraph 1. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. The noise of a bolt came to Alderley’s ears.
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