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Updated: May 31, 2025
Barrymaine and I are still strangers." "By heaven, you are right, sir, though, egad! I'm only a little previous, eh, my dear fellow?" and, smiling engagingly, Mr. Smivvle followed Barnabas into a side room, and shutting the door with elaborate care, immediately shook his whiskers and heaved a profound sigh.
Here Mr. Smivvle whistled softly, took off the curly-brimmed hat, looked at it, and put it on again at a more rakish angle than ever. "Didn't happen to mention my name, did he Smivvle, sir?" "No." "Nor Dig, perhaps?" "No, sir." "Remarkable hum!" exclaimed Mr. Smivvle, shaking his head; "but I'm ready to lay you odds that he did speak of my friend Barry. I may say my bosom companion a Mr.
Smivvle started, and raised his eyes swiftly. Stared at unconscious Barnabas, rubbed his nose, felt for his whisker, and, having found it, tugged it viciously. "Blot, sir!" he exclaimed loudly; "now, upon my soul and honor what blot, sir?"
Digby Smivvle were in a chastened mood, indeed their habitual ferocity was mitigated to such a degree that they might almost be said to wilt, or droop. Mr. Digby Smivvle drooped likewise; in a word, Mr. Smivvle was despondent. He sat in one of the rickety chairs, his legs stretched out to the cheerless hearth, and stared moodily at the ashes of a long dead fire.
"What the d-devil d' you want? Get out of the way, d' ye hear? get out, I say!" "Axing your pardon, sir, an' meaning no offence, but summat was said about a bob, sir vun shilling!" "Damnation! Give the fellow his s-shilling, Dig, and then k-kick him out." Hereupon Mr. Smivvle, having felt through his pockets, slowly produced the coin demanded, and handing it to the bargeman, pointed to the door.
"A good, comfortable distance, D-Dig," said he, "now tell him to take his g-ground." But even as he spoke, Mr. Chichester strode to the opposite corner of the long room, and turning, stood there with folded arms. Up till now, he had uttered no word, but as Mr. Smivvle leaned back against the wall, midway between them, and glanced from one to the other, Mr. Chichester spoke.
In a word, my friend Barry wholly forgetful of those sacred bonds which the hammer of Adversity alone can weld, scorning Friendship's holy obligations, has turned his back upon Smivvle, upon Digby, upon faithful Dig, and in short has ah hopped the mutual perch, sir." "Do you mean he has left you?" "Yes, sir.
"No, see him downstairs into the street, Dig. And you needn't hurry back, I'm going to speak my mind to this f-fellow once and for all! So l-lock the street door, Dig." Mr. Smivvle hesitated, glanced at Barnabas, shrugged his shoulders and followed the bargeman out of the room.
"I think," said Barnabas, putting away his watch, "yes, I think I shall." "The house is called Ashleydown," continued Barrymaine feverishly, "a b-big house about a m-mile this side the village." "Ashleydown? I think I've heard mention of it before. But now, you must come with me, Smivvle is downstairs, you shall have my rooms to-night." "Thanks, Beverley, but do you m-mind giving me your arm?
Smivvle stepped into the room; haggard of eye he looked, and with cheeks that showed deadly pale by contrast with the blackness of his glossy whiskers, and beneath his arm he carried a familiar oblong box; at sight of Barnabas he started, sighed, and crossing hastily, set the box upon the table and caught him by the arm: "Stop him, Beverley stop him!" he whispered hurriedly.
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