Marjorie Bowen

“ He flung aside his gloves and cloak and his sword sprang out in the candle-light.
"My God!" whispered Sir Perseus, reeling against the wall with a sick face.
The Master of Stair came toward him; his bared sword glittering as it shook to the quick breathing of his fury.
"You!" he said with mad eyes, dark and narrow. "You—the Frenchman's spy—the priest's tool—the mouthpiece of the scandals of the gutter—you, to drag my name through the mire to make a party cry!"
Sir Perseus drew himself together desperately.
"John Dalrymple!" he cried. "You have betrayed yourself too soon—by God you have!" ”

“ Mr. Wedderburn's eyes flashed; he poured out more wine and drank it slowly.
"The Master of Stair!" he said. "I have heard a great deal of the Master of Stair," he gave a half-smile, "Now what have you to say of him?"
He set his glass down and Sir Perseus marked his strong shapely hand as it lay round the stem.
"Come," the other insisted in an imperious mariner, leaning a little across the table, "let me hear your skill in lampoons."
"I do not write them—I merely collect the materials."
"So they are true?"
"God knows, one needs not to invent lies of the Master of Stair." ”

“ In loving of a Hell-cat rake
A man with all the vices rife
A lover fit for the Master's wife—
"A moment, sir."
Mr. Wedderburn leaned forward in a manner, that, although still quiet, stopped Sir Perseus instantly.
"Where do you get your information, sir?" he asked. Sir Perseus put down the pamphlet.
"Why, from common talk," he said.
"Common talk!" cried the other in a strange voice, "so these things are common talk! And this last of your gutter lies, is that common, too?"
"So common, sir, that you should know it," answered Sir Perseus, firing. "’Tis public property, God knows." ”