He had not thought to find a lady so ready of humour and willing to give him a hearing. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. " "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. ‘Madwoman,’ he screamed back, as he climbed over the next pew, eyes darting down briefly to check for his sword.
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