It was now much past the noon of night, and the hour of separation,
long postponed, was inevitable. Often had Cadurcis risen to depart,
and often, without regaining his seat, had he been tempted by his
friends, and especially Venetia, into fresh narratives. At last he
said, 'Now we must go. Lady Annabel looks good night. I remember the
look,' he said, laughing, 'when we used to beg for a quarter of an
hour more. O Venetia! do not you remember that Christmas when dear
old Masham read Julius Caesar, and we were to sit up until it was
finished. When he got to the last act I hid his spectacles. I never
confessed it until this moment. Will you pardon me, Lady Annabel?' and
he pressed his hands together in a mockery of supplication.
'Will you come and breakfast with us to-morrow?' said Lady Annabel.
'With delight,' he answered. 'I am used, you know, to walks before
breakfast. George, I do not think George can do it, though. George
likes his comforts; he is a regular John Bull. He was always calling
for tea when we were in Turkey!'
At this moment Mistress Pauncefort entered the room, ostensibly on
some little affair of her mistress, but really to reconnoitre.
'Ah! Mistress Pauncefort; my old friend, Mistress Pauncefort, how do
you do?' exclaimed his lordship.
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