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"Ye donnert ne'er-do-weel, do you come to a decent, 'sponsible man like me, wi' sic a Cyprian overture as that? What d'ye tak' me for? Awa' wi' ye to yer pots and pans; and bid the wandering Venus that sent ye go spin!" Before the girl could answer she was gently pulled aside from the doorway, and Bishopriggs, thunder-struck, saw Anne Silvester standing in her place.
Were the strangers coming in? The landlady had declined to let her have the rooms: it was quite possible that the strangers might be coming to look at them. There was no knowing who they might be. In the impulse of the moment she flew to the bedchamber and locked herself in. The door from the passage opened, and Arnold Brinkworth shown in by Mr. Bishopriggs entered the sitting-room.
Ha' ye lived to your time o' life, and are ye no' awakened yet to the awfu' seenfulness o' gamblin' wi' the cairds?" "Just as you please," returned Arnold. "You will find me awakened when I go away to the awful folly of feeing a waiter." "Does that mean that ye're bent on the cairds?" asked Mr. Bishopriggs, suddenly betraying signs of worldly anxiety in his look and manner.
Secluded in the solitude of the head-waiter's pantry, Bishopriggs sat peacefully melting the sugar in his whisky-punch. It was the hour of the evening at which a period of tranquillity generally occurred before what was called "the night-business" of the house began. Bishopriggs was accustomed to drink and meditate daily in this interval of repose.
"What do you mean by speaking to me in that familiar manner?" she asked, rising angrily to her feet again. Mr. Bishopriggs tucked his duster under his arm, and proceeded to satisfy Anne that he shared the landlady's view of her position, without sharing the severity of the landlady's principles. "There's nae man livin'," said Mr.
Blanche instantly recognized him; instantly called to mind Sir Patrick's conviction that he was in possession of Anne's lost letter; instantly rushed to the conclusion that, in discovering Bishopriggs, she had discovered a chance of tracing Anne. Her first impulse was to claim acquaintance with him on the spot. But the eyes of her neighbors were on her, warning her to wait.
I insist on your restoring it to me before I leave this room!" Bishopriggs hesitated again. His first suspicion that Anne had been privately instructed by Mrs. Glenarm's lawyers returned to his mind as a suspicion confirmed. He felt the vast importance of making a cautious reply.
She made her excuses for her irritability with a grace that enchanted him. "We'll have a pleasant evening of it yet!" cried Arnold, in his hearty way and rang the bell. The bell was hung outside the door of that Patmos in the wilderness otherwise known as the head-waiter's pantry. Mr. "Haud yer screechin' tongue!" cried Mr. Bishopriggs, addressing the bell through the door.
"Ye're kindly welcome, Sir Paitrick. Hech, Sirs! the sight of you is gude for sair eyne." Sir Patrick turned and looked at Mr. Bishopriggs as he might have looked at some troublesome insect which he had driven out of the window, and which had returned on him again. "What, you scoundrel! have you drifted into an honest employment at last?" Mr.
It was equally clear that the first thing to be done by Bishopriggs was to find the means of obtaining a personal interview with him. If the interview led to nothing else, it would decide one important question which still remained to be solved. The lady whom Bishopriggs had waited on at Craig Fernie might well be "Anne Silvester." Was Mr.
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