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"All right, Caudle," said Eames, going on, whereas his companion had shown a tendency towards stopping. "Look here, now; if I have vexed you about Amelia Roper, I'll make you a promise never to speak to her again." "D Amelia Roper," said Eames, suddenly stopping himself and stopping Cradell as well.
On neither of these subjects was he disposed to speak openly; but as he walked home to Burton Crescent with Cradell, he did tell him of the affair with Crosbie. "And you went in at him on the station?" asked Cradell, with admiring doubt. "Yes I did. If I didn't do it there, where was I to do it? I'd said I would, and therefore when I saw him I did it."
And he bustled away with his hat and gloves, hardly giving Cradell time to catch him before he got out into the streets. "I tell you what it is, Caudle," said he, "all that kind of thing is disgusting."
She almost resolved not to see Eames on the present occasion, thinking that he might be made the more desperate by such refusal, and remembering also that Cradell was in the house and would know of it. "He's there a-waiting, Miss Mealyer. Why don't yer come down?" and Jemima plucked her young mistress by the arm. "I am coming," said Amelia. And with dignified steps she descended to the interview.
There are some confidences which a man does not share even with his dearest friend. "I rather fancy it's quite the other way," said Eames. "How the other way?" "That Lupex has quite as much as he likes of Mrs L. The sound of her voice sometimes makes me shake in my shoes, I know." "I like a woman with spirit," said Cradell. "Oh, so do I. But one may have too much of a good thing.
And you would not wish me to be happy in your absence, would you? I can assure you, let your wishes he what they may, I never can be happy again unless you are with me. Write to me one little line, and tell me that you are grateful to me for my devotion. And now, I must tell you that we have had a sad affair in the house; and I do not think that your friend Mr Cradell has behaved at all well.
This proposition was made, on one of those Sunday walks, by John Eames to the friend of his bosom, a brother clerk, whose legitimate name was Cradell, and who was therefore called Caudle by his friends. "Get into a club? Fisher in our room belongs to a club." "That's only a chess-club. I mean a regular club."
Cradell was gone, so that he did not see him on that afternoon; but he had an opportunity of shaking hands with Mr Love, who treated him with all the smiling courtesy due to an official bigwig, for a private secretary, if not absolutely a big-wig, is semi-big, and entitled to a certain amount of reverence; and he passed Mr Kissing in the passage, hurrying along as usual with a huge book under his arm.
When will he restore to me my honour?" "Upon-on-on-on my " It was for the moment in vain that poor Mr Cradell endeavoured to asseverate his innocence, and to stake his honour upon his own purity as regarded Mrs Lupex. Lupex still held to his enemy's cravat, though Eames had now got him by the arm, and so far impeded his movements as to hinder him from proceeding to any graver attack.
"I wish I could find a lord in a field with a bull," said Cradell. We may, however, be permitted to doubt whether Mr Cradell would have earned a watch even if he had had his wish. "You see," continued Cradell, reverting, to the subject on which he most delighted to talk, "I'm not responsible for that man's ill-conduct." "Does anybody say you are?" "No; nobody says so. But people seem to think so.
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