Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. ‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother.
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