"O, I will gladly ride thy omnibus," Harry says when Feuilly is back at his side.
His confidence in the brilliant of their plan is not as absolute as he makes it seem, but he resists the urge to rush through the hall: calm and confident draws less attention. Or at least it ought to-- but a young man, about their own age, dressed for riding, breaks off from one of the groups and moves to intercept Harry on his way.
"Where have you been!" he cries. "We have been waiting for you this age! The sun will set ere we begin our hunt if you still linger so." His eye falls on Feuilly. "Who--?"
"A cousin of my mother, sure you met when he arrived," Harry says.
"I think not," the young man replies, looking at Feuilly with a direct, but carefully unreadable expression.
"Then I present my cousin-- John Feuilly." He pronounces it something like 'Fully,' as if it is a Norman name anglicized. "And this, Sir Ralph Neville."
Sir Ralph Neville bows-- Harry jerks his head in an attempt to indicate that Feuilly should follow suit.
no subject
His confidence in the brilliant of their plan is not as absolute as he makes it seem, but he resists the urge to rush through the hall: calm and confident draws less attention. Or at least it ought to-- but a young man, about their own age, dressed for riding, breaks off from one of the groups and moves to intercept Harry on his way.
"Where have you been!" he cries. "We have been waiting for you this age! The sun will set ere we begin our hunt if you still linger so." His eye falls on Feuilly. "Who--?"
"A cousin of my mother, sure you met when he arrived," Harry says.
"I think not," the young man replies, looking at Feuilly with a direct, but carefully unreadable expression.
"Then I present my cousin-- John Feuilly." He pronounces it something like 'Fully,' as if it is a Norman name anglicized. "And this, Sir Ralph Neville."
Sir Ralph Neville bows-- Harry jerks his head in an attempt to indicate that Feuilly should follow suit.