"Mr. Ramage. Stanley, at the door. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses. ‘Eh bien, I will tell you. She listened with growing apprehension to the tale that Gerald told, omitting any mention of pistols and daggers, and at the end delivered herself of various expletives highly unsuited to a lady of her advanced years. The Night-Cellar XVIII. "I am," replied Jonathan, following him, "and so," he added in an undertone, "are your captors. " "There it is;" replied the other, tossing him the glove.
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