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"Get out o' my back-hair! That must have been the brake I touched off," Hinchcliffe muttered, and repaired his error tumultuously. We passed the cart as though we had been all Bruges belfry. Agg, from the port-office door, regarded us with a too pacific eye. I remembered later that the pretty postmistress looked on us pityingly. Hinchcliffe wiped the sweat from his brow and drew breath.
"Talkin' o' wakes " said Pyecroft suddenly. "We weren't," Hinchcliffe grunted. "There's some wakes would break a snake's back; but this of yours, so to speak, would fair turn a tapeworm giddy. That's all I wish to observe, Hinch. ... Cart at anchor on the port-bow. It's Agg!" Far up the shaded road into secluded Bromlingleigh we saw the carrier's cart at rest before the post-office.
When Agg and Ebb brought news of this to their mother Gambaruk, she saw that the authors of this infamous decree had found safety in crime.
How extraordinarily different all of them were from Agg! They reminded him acutely of his deep need of luxury. After all, the life lived by those two men about town, George and Everard, was rather humdrum and monotonous. In spite of Everard's dash, and in spite of George's secret engagement, neither of them met enough women or enough sorts of women.
Agg, can't you get along without stirring up the old folks everytime I'm out o' the house?" The speaker was Ed, now a tail and slouchily dressed man of thirty-two or -three; his face still handsome in a certain dark, cleanly cut style, but he wore a surly loo'k and lounged along in a sort of hangdog style, in greasy overalls and vest unbuttoned. "Hello, Will! I heard you'd got home.
He found a fierce pleasure in reiterating the phrase. "So long as that's understood, I don't mind the rest. If we have to depend on Agg, or meet in the streets never mind. It'll be an infernal nuisance, but I expect I can stand it as well as you can. Moreover, I quite see your difficulty quite. And let's hope the old gentleman will begin to have a little sense." "Oh, George! If he only would!"
George and Agg were now not unfriendly; but each constantly criticized the other in silence, and both were aware of the existence of this vast body of unspoken criticism. Agg criticized more than George, who had begun to take the attitude that Agg ought to be philosophically accepted as incomprehensible rather than criticized.
She fulfilled her role to perfection. She was a talented and competent designer, but as the helpmeet of a man she had genius. His mind dwelt on her with rapture. "You'll be going out as soon as you've changed, dear?" she said affectionately to Agg. "Yes," answered Agg, who at the mirror was wiping from her face the painted signs of alcoholism. She had thrown off the bag wig.
"Yes, I've seen him," George answered. "Did he tell you?" "Yes." Mr. Prince, after a little hovering, retired to his press, and a wheel could be heard creaking. "What did he tell you?" "He told me about the marriage.... And I gathered there'd been a bit of a scene." "Nothing else?" "No." Agg then interjected, fixing her blue eyes on George: "Marguerite is coming to live with me in my studio."
"Oh, you are, eh? Well, now, are you Tom's boy or Ed's?" "Tomth's boy. Uncle Ed hith gal-" "Ed got a boy?" "Yeth, thir- lii baby. Aunt Agg letth me hold 'im" "Agg! Is that her name?" "That's what Uncle Ed callth her." The man's head fell, and it was a long time before he asked his next question. "How is she, anyhow?"
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