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Then as an overdressed, florid woman, with high bullhead fringe and old-fashioned Spanish farthingale, quickly obeyed his behests, he said with a coarse laugh: "Fresh cards may break Master Segrave's luck and improve yours, Sir Michael."
I really thinks I shall get over this terrible illness, for I dreamt of 'unting last night, and, if you've a mind, we'll go and see my Lord Segrave's reynard dog, and then start from this 'ere corrupt place, for, you see, it's nothing but a town, and what's the use of sticking oneself in a little pokey lodging like this 'ere, where there really is not room to swing a cat, and paying the deuce knows how much tin, too, when one has a splendid house in Great Coram Street going on all the time, with a rigler establishment of servants and all that sort of thing.
Segrave's eyes at the moment were fixed on his own card, Lambert's on the face of his opponent. No one else in the room was paying any attention to the play of the two young men, for everyone was busy with his own affairs. Play was general, the hour late. The wines had been heady, and all tempers were at fever pitch.
He was also vaguely wondering what had become of Sir Marmaduke and Mistress de Chavasse. But now Segrave's voice was raised, and once more Lambert found himself the cynosure of a number of hostile glances.
The captain called it dirty weather, but I thought it lovely, and I don't think I ever enjoyed myself more except when Captain Segrave's Black Douglas ran away with me in Phoenix Park.
Dames and cavaliers, players and idlers, looked up to see whence that weird sound had come. Instinctively the crowd drew nigh, dice and cards were pushed aside. Some strange drama was being enacted between two young men, more interesting even than the caprices of Fortune. But already Endicott and also Sir Marmaduke de Chavasse had followed the beckonings of Segrave's feverish hand.
His eyes which already were burning with hot tears, seemed to take on an almost savage glitter. A hoarse cry escaped his parched lips. "In the name of Heaven, Master Segrave, what ails you?" cried Endicott with well-feigned concern. Segrave's hand wandered mechanically to his own neck; he tugged at the fastening of his lace collar, as if, in truth, he were choking.
Now, my chap said, I must only take half a bottle o' black strap a day at the werry most, whereas I have never had less than a whole one his half first, as I say, and my own after and because I tells him I take a pint, he flatters himself his treatment is capital, and that he is a wonderful M.D.; but as a man can't be better than well, I think we'll just see what there's to be seen in the neighbourhood, and then cut our sticks, and, as I said before, I should like werry much to see my Lord Segrave's hounds, in order that I may judge whether there is anything in the wide world to be compared to the Surrey, for if I remember right, Mr.
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