E Phillips Oppenheim

The Wicked Marquis E Phillips Oppenheim

Reginald Philip Graham Thursford, Baron Travers, Marquis of Mandeleys, issued, one Maymorning, from the gloomy precincts of the Law Courts without haste, yet with certain evidencesof a definite desire to leave the place behind him. He crossed first the pavement and then thestreet, piloted here and there by his somewhat obsequious companion, and turned along theStrand, westwards. Then, in that democratic thoroughfare, for the first time since the calamityhad happened, his lips were unlocked in somewhat singular fashion."Well, I'm damned!" he exclaimed, with slow and significant emphasis. His companion glanced up furtively in his direction. The Marquis, as Marquises should be, was very tall and slim, with high well-shaped nose, very little flesh upon his face, a mouth ofuncertain shape and eyes of uncertain colour. His companion, as solicitors to the aristocracyshould be, was of a smaller, more rotund and insignificant shape. He had the healthycomplexion, however, of the week-end golfer, and he affected a certain unlegal rakishness ofattire, much in vogue amongst members of his profession having connections in high circles. Inhis heart he very much admired the ease and naturalness with which his patron, in the heart ofprofessional London, strode along by his side in a well-worn tweed suit, a collar of somewhatancient design, and a tie which had seen better days