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Updated: June 4, 2025
And then to say as I put about that they was all over the house, and frighten the London lady's maid, which all I said was and Hann can tell you that I speak the truth, for she was there 'some says one thing, says I, 'and some says another, but I takes no notice of nothink. But put up with a deal, I have more than ever I told a soul since I come here, which I promised Mrs. de Noël when she asked me to oblige her; which the blue lights I have seen a many times, and tapping of coffin-nails on the wall, and never close my eyes for nights sometimes, but am entirely wore away, and my nerve that weak; and then to be so hurt in my feelings, and spoke to as I am not accustomed, but always treated everywhere I goes with the greatest of kindness and respect, which ask Mrs. de Noël she will tell you, since ever I was a widow; but pack my things I will, and walk every step of the way, if it was pouring cats and dogs, I would, rather than stay another minute here to be so put upon; and send for Mrs. de Noël if you don't believe me, and she will tell you the many high families she recommended me, and always give satisfaction.
Warrington laughed, drew out his wallet and handed William a crisp, crackly bank-note. It went, neatly creased, into William's sagging vest-pocket. "Have a cigarette?" asked Warrington. "Richard, there's one thing I never did, and that's smoke one of those coffin-nails. Whisky and tobacco are all right, but I draw the line at cigarettes." Warrington passed him a cigar.
The wisdom for social purposes of infinitesimal division of labour, may be proved good by working well; but its lowering influences on the individual mind cannot be doubted: that an intelligent man should for a life-time be doomed to watch a valve, or twist pin-heads, or wind cotton, or lacquer coffin-nails, cannot be improving; and while I grant great evil in my desultory excesses, still I may make some use of that argument in the converse, and plead that it is good to exercise the mind on all things.
All these joys are attached to their destiny by coffin-nails. What does that matter? They thirst for these lugubrious, chimerical glimpses of light that are full of dreams. What is tobacco, that is so precious and so dear to the prisoner? It is a dream. "Put me in the dungeon," said a convict, "but give me some tobacco." In other words: "Throw me into a pit, but give me a palace."
Not a breath for you, though you snap and catch for one worse than a fish on land." "It's over very soon, mother," said Dahlia. "The coldness of you young women! Yes; but it's the time you feeling, trying for air; it's the horrid 'Oh, dear me! You set your mind on it!" "I do," said Dahlia. "You see coffin-nails instead of stars. You'd give the world to turn upon one side. You can't think.
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