I vanish from the scene like a play-actor.

Drink it, you beggars! Drink it, you wine-bibbers! Drink it, you gamesters, you hunters of women! Drink to me, the marquis's.

.

.

bastard!" Twelve glasses hung in mid air; twelve faces were transfixed with horror and incredulity; twelve pairs of eyes stared stupidly at the mad toast-master.