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Chantry's wonder grew, swelled, and burst. "Do you mean to say that that safety-deposit vault of a Ferguson told you all this?" "As I am telling it to you. Only much more detail, of course and much, much faster. It wasn't like a story at all: it was like like a hemorrhage. I didn't interrupt him as you've been interrupting me.
But Havelock the Dane, to Chantry's surprise, was meek. "Yes," he said, "I know it. Now let me out of here." "Well, then," Chantry's voice rang out triumphant, "what does that prove?" "Prove?" Havelock's great fist crashed down on the table. "It proves that Ferguson's a better man than either of us. I can think straight, but he had the sand to act straight.
Skenedonk heard without shifting a muscle all Doctor Chantry's grievances; and I told him we ought to cherish them, for they were views of life we could not take ourselves.
"If you think you can do better, try for lodgings at the store-keeper's." "The store-keeper's!" Doctor Chantry's hysterical cry turned some attention to us. "I shall do nothing of the kind. I demand the best you have, sir." "The best I can give you," amended our host. "You see we are very full of politicians from Washington. They crowd to the spring."
Annabel suddenly raised the branch high above her head with both arms, and displayed Doctor Chantry's hand and mine clasped tenderly in her lap. She laughed until even Miss Chantry was infected, and the doctor tittered and wiped his eyes. "Watch your brother, Miss Chantry don't watch me! You thought he was squeezing my hand and he thought so too!
An ivory or marble image, like Chantry's monument of the two children, is contemplated with pure delight. Why do we not grieve and fret that the marble is not alive, or fancy that it has a shortness of breath?
Seated then in Chantry's chair, Landseer called out in perfect imitation of his host: "Come, young man, you think yourself ornamental; now make yourself useful, and ring the bell." Chantry did so, and when the butler came in he was confused and amazed to hear his master's voice from where Landseer sat in Chantry's place at the table.
Skenedonk blazed our track with his observant eye, and we told ourselves we were searching for Doctor Chantry's beef. Being the unburdened hunter I undertook to scan cross places, and so came unexpectedly upon the Rue St. Antoine, as a man told me it was called, and a great hurrahing that filled the mouths of a crowd blocking the thoroughfare. "Long live the emperor!" they shouted.
Havelock set his massive lips firmly together. You could not say that he pursed that Cyclopean mouth. "Ferguson did not boast. He merely told me. He was, I think, a modest man." Incredulity beyond any power of laughter to express settled on Chantry's countenance. "Modest? And he told you?" "The whole thing." Havelock's voice was heavy enough for tragedy. "Listen. Don't interrupt me once.
"I was labouring under the delusion that you were a friend." The brief career of the cigarette was ended. Chantry's long fingers had locked over his knee. He did not move. "Sit down, please," he said. "It is precisely because I am your friend that I will not promise." Landor halted, a question in every line of his face. "I think I fail to understand," he groped. "I suppose I'm dense."