"We have met before.
I was present at your first wedding ten years ago, and--as a junior counsel--I helped to divorce you a few months after.

My name is Vivian Caryl." He freed a hand to push up his mask.

His pale face with its heavy-lidded eyes stared, supremely contemptuous, into Brandon's suffused countenance.

His composure was somehow disconcerting.
"Suppose you get out," he suggested.

"I can talk to you then in a language you will understand." "Curse you!" bawled Brandon.