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For a moment Walden had been so taken aback by the suddenness of Leveson's unexpected overthrow that he could scarcely realise what had happened, but presently when the Reverend 'Putty's' cobby legs began to sprawl uneasily on the ground, and the Eeverend 'Putty' himself gave vent to sundry blasphemous oaths and curses, he grasped the full humour of the situation. A broad smile lit up his face.
"Very sorry, sir!" said Bainton complacently; "But if one of the names of a man 'appens to be Putwood an' the man 'imself is as fat as a pig scored for roastin' 'ole, what more natrul than the pet name of 'Putty' for 'im? No 'arm meant, I'm sure, Passon! Putty's as good as Pippitt any day!" Walden suppressed his laughter with an effort.
"It matters this much, that I will not allow Miss Vaneourt to be insulted by you or anyone else!" retorted Walden, hotly "You have never spoken to her, you know nothing about her, so hold your tongue!" The Reverend 'Putty's' round eyes protruded with amazement. "Hold my tongue!" he repeated, in a kind of stupefaction "Are you gone mad, Walden? Do you know who you are talking to?"
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