William Carleton,
The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain
“ Sir Thomas waved his hand. “Go,” he added, “send her here.” “D—n the old scoundrel,” thought Gibson to himself; “but that's a fine piece of acting. Why, if he hadn't been aware of it all along he would have thrown me clean out of the window, even as the messenger of such tidings. However, he is not so deep as he thinks himself. We know him—see through him—on this subject at least.” When Nancy entered, her master gave her one of those stern, searching looks which often made his unfortunate menials tremble before him. ”
