With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. He forced her arm back, away, stretching it out to keep the weapon at bay. , etc. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not.
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