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Updated: June 18, 2025
Phoebe and her sweetheart sat together, waiting the appearance of the supper, on a little sofa at the other end of the room. Having certain objects to gain, Jervy put his arm round her waist, and looked and spoke in his most insinuating manner. "Try and put up with Mother Sowler for an hour or two," he said. "My sweet girl, I know she isn't fit company for you!
"Farnaby?" she muttered to herself, in the tone of a person who heard the name for the first time. She considered a little, and leaning across Jervy, addressed herself to his companion. "My dear," she whispered, "did that gentleman ever go by the name of Morgan, and have his letters addressed to the George and Dragon, in Tooley-street?"
Jervy wasted no time in thinking. He went on with his questions. "Are you quite sure that the man I pointed out to you, at the lecture, is the same man who went by the name of Morgan, and had his letters addressed to the public-house?" "Quite sure. I'd swear to him anywhere only by his eyes." "And have you never yet asked him to pay the debt?"
Phoebe picked a last oyster out of its shell, and kept her eyes modestly fixed on her plate. Observing that the second glass of gin-and-water was fast becoming empty, Jervy risked the first advances, on his way to Mrs. Sowler's confidence. "About that debt of Farnaby's?" he began. "Is it a debt of long standing?" Mrs. Sowler was on her guard. In other words, Mrs.
The persons near, annoyed by the incessant whispering, looked round irritably, and insisted on silence. Jervy ventured nevertheless on a last interruption. "You seem to be tired of this," he remarked to Phoebe; "let's go and get some oysters." She rose directly. Jervy tapped Mrs. Sowler on the shoulder, as they passed her. "Come and have some supper," he said; "I'll stand treat."
"Not a week old?" Jervy repeated, with his eye on Phoebe. "Dear, dear me, a newborn baby, one may say!" The girl's excitement was fast getting beyond control. She leaned across the table, in her eagerness to hear more. "And how long was this poor child under your care?" Jervy went on. "How can I tell you, at this distance of time? For some months, I should say.
"But I want to know " "Put on your bonnet, and wait till we are out in the street." Jervy paid the bill, with all needful remembrance of the waiter. He was generous, he was polite; but he was apparently in no hurry to favour Phoebe with the explanation that he had promised. They had left the tavern for some minutes and he was still rude enough to remain absorbed in his own reflections.
He had arrived with news that Jervy was found. "Where has he been found?" Amelius asked, snatching up his hat. "There's no hurry, sir," Morcross answered quietly. "When I had the honour of seeing you yesterday, you said you meant to make Jervy suffer for what he had done. Somebody else has saved you the trouble. He was found this evening in the river." "Drowned?"
Sowler's wishes with deference, shabby as she was. Making abundant apologies, he asked his neighbours to favour him by sitting a little nearer to each other, and so contrive to leave a morsel of vacant space at the edge of the bench. Phoebe, making room under protest, began to whisper again. "What does she mean by calling you Jervy? She looks like a beggar. Tell her your name is Jervis."
A share of my pocket-money is always at your service. "Your friend, "Very nice indeed," said Jervy, handing the letter back, and yawning as he did it. "And convenient, too, if we run short of money. Ah, here's the waiter with the supper, at last! Now, Mrs. Sowler, there's a time for everything it's time to wake up."
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