United States or Argentina ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Dangerfield, in a rather harsh voice, but agreeably and intelligently withal, told some rather pleasant stories about old wines and curious wine fanciers; and Cluffe and Puddock, who often sang together, being called on by the general, chanted a duet rather prettily, though neither, separately, had much of a voice.
'I say, said Dangerfield, with a startling laugh, observing Irons wince, and speaking as the puff of smoke crossed his face, 'he'd lodge a bullet in the cur's heart, as suddenly as I've shot that tree; the bullet had hit the stem right in the centre, 'and swear he was going to rob him. Irons eyed him with a livid squint, but answered nothing.
'He has seen you, too, he says; and thinks you have seen him, hey? and Dangerfield chuckled more and more knowingly, and watched his shiftings and sulkings with a pleasant grin, as he teased and quizzed him in his own enigmatical way.
He was walking in the opposite direction, looking down on the kerb-stones of the footpath, and touching them with his cane, as if counting them as he proceeded. Dangerfield nodded, and his spectacles in the morning sun seemed to flash two sudden gleams of lightning after him. 'I've been giving Nutter a bit of my mind, Madam, about that procedure of his.
The Terror looked at him with a cold thoughtful eye: "All right," he said. "You can put the stole down to me Master Hyacinth Dangerfield, Colet House, Little Deeping." He began to shovel the money back into the bag. An expression of deep pain spread over the mobile face of Mr. Barker as the coins began to disappear; and he said quickly: "I'm afraid we can't do that, sir.
Irons and Dangerfield, and the church-yard there was a flash of association in the group and the background which accorded with an old suspicion. Dangerfield, indeed, was innocently reading a leaf in his red and gilt leather pocket-book, as I have said. But Irons's eyes met the glance of Mervyn, and contracted oddly, and altogether there gleamed out something indefinable in his look.
He hesitated, shuffled his feet again, took a step to go; then looking rather earnestly at Mrs. Dangerfield, he added in a rather uncertain voice: "I should like to stay and see how they do it. I might pick up a wrinkle or two." "Of course. Why, it's your stream," she said. He stayed, but he paid far more attention to Mrs. Dangerfield than to the fishing.
It's all that comical dream curse it! What tricks the brain plays us! 'Tis fair it should though. We work it while we please, and it plays when it may. The slave has his saturnalia, and flouts his tyrant. Ha, ha! 'tis time these follies were ended. I've something to do to-night. So Mr. Dangerfield became himself again, and applied himself keenly to his business.
Lastly, you quarrel with every one of your non-hunting friends, whose unfeeling observations on "fine seasonable weather" and "healthy, bracing frosts" you feel to be brutal in the extreme. How I hated the frost at Dangerfield! My only chance of meeting with Frank Lovell was out hunting. I could not put it in the bag, for my aunt keeps the key.
No sooner was our friend Cluffe well assured that Dangerfield was in custody of the gaoler, and that his old theory of a certain double plot carried on by that intriguing personage, with the object of possessing the hand and thousands of Aunt Rebecca, was now and for ever untenable, than he wrote to London forthwith to countermand the pelican.
Word Of The Day