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Updated: May 9, 2025
Betty Williams, who was of a different nature from our heroine, saw the salver recede with excessive surprise and regret; she stretched out her hand after it, and seized a glass of raspberry-ice; but no sooner had she tasted it than she made a frightful face, and let the glass fall, exclaiming "Pless us! 'tis not as good as cooseherry fool." Mrs.
"What is that, my friend?" inquired Don Antonio. "Sell a shill, to be sure I'll thocht everybody know that," said Donald, a good deal surprised at the other's ignorance. "Shill? shill?" repeated the Spaniard "and pray, my friend, what is a shill?" "Cot pless me! don't you'll know what a shill is?" rejoined Donald, with increased amazement.
"T'at is enough, sir," returned Ten Eyck, or Guert, as I shall henceforth call him, in general; "vere dere ist a vill, dere ist a vay." Guert frequently broke out in such specimens of broken English, while at other times he would speak almost as well as any of us. "So Got pless you my dear Mr. Littlepage, and make us lasting friends.
Truly my brain was playing silly tricks for me as I stumbled through the murky corridors. I had my imagination in a pretty fair state of subjection by the time we emerged from the dungeons and started up the steps. Facts were facts, and I would have to stick to them. That is why I bethought myself to utter this sage observation: "Britton is a faithful, obliging fellow, Mr. Pless.
Cot pless my soul I does he think, or conceive, or imagine, that I am a horse, or an ass, or a goat, to trudge backwards and forwards, and upwards and downwards, and by sea and by land; at his will and pleasure?
"Did you hear footsteps in the Sh!" Some one was walking over the stone floor in the lower hall, brisk strides that rang out quite clearly as they drew nearer. "It is it is Mr. Pless," she whispered in a panic. "I recognise his tread. As if I could ever forget it! Oh, how I hate him! He " "Don't stop here to tell me about it," I cut in sharply. "Make haste!
I think I glared. What right had he to meddle in Britton's affairs? "I am afraid your fancy draws a rather long bow, Mr. Pless," said I, coldly. He was at once apologetic. "If I offend, Mr. Smart, pray forgive me. You are quite justified in rebuking me. Shall we return to our own ladies?" Nothing could have been more adroit than the way he accused me in that concluding sentence.
For the ensuing few minutes he thought it all over, soberly but with a stout heart; standing at a window of his bedroom in the Hotel Pless, hands deep in trouser pockets, pipe fuming voluminously, his gaze wandering out over a blurred infinitude of wet shining roofs and sooty chimney-pots: all of London that a lowering drizzle would let him see, and withal by no means a cheering prospect, nor yet one calculated to offset the disheartening influence of the indomitable Shade of Care.
"I'm very weary of thinking round in a circle and that," she concluded, with a nervous little laugh, "is all I've had to do for days!" "I'm afraid I'm very stupid," he humored her. "This is the second time, you know, in the course of a very brief acquaintance, that you have found it necessary to remind me to talk to you." "Oh-h!" She brightened. "That night, at the Pless? But that was ages ago!"
"With the interest to be added," said the lawyer, thrumming on the chair-arm with his fingers something after the fashion my mother always employs in computing a simple sum in addition. "Certainly," said Mr. Pless, sharply. "Mr. Smart understands that quite clearly, Mr. Schymansky. It isn't necessary to enlighten him." The lawyer cleared his throat. I knew him at once for a shyster. Mr.
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