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Updated: May 31, 2025
Smivvle entered with Peterby at his heels. "Oh, Beverley!" he exclaimed, tugging nervously at his whiskers, "Barry's gone most distressing utterly vanished! I just happened to ah pop round the corner, my dear fellow, and when I came back he'd disappeared, been looking for him everywhere. Poor Barry poor fellow, they've got him safe enough by now! Oh Gad, Beverley! what can I do?"
"And so long as that organ continues its functions, you may count Digby Smivvle your friend, and at his little place in Worcestershire he will be proud to show you the hospitality of a Smivvle. Meanwhile, sir, seeing we are both strangers in a strange place, supposing we join forces and, if you are up for the race, I propose " "The race!" exclaimed Barnabas, looking up suddenly.
Smivvle smilingly caressed his whiskers, and his bold, black eyes darted glances here and there, from Barnabas mending his pen to the table, from the table to the walls, to the ceiling, and from that altitude they dropped to the table again, and hovered there. "Sir," said Barnabas without looking up, "pray excuse the blot, the pen was a bad one; I am making another, as you see." Mr.
But himself again. Oh, lucky dog! With Fortune eager to dower him with all the treasures of her cornucopia, and Beauty waiting for him with expectant arms, oh, lucky dog! Oh, happy youth! Congratulations, Beverley, glad of it, my dear fellow, you deserve it all and more. Oh, fortunate wight! But, as for me you behold the last of lonely Smivvle, sir, of bereaved Digby of solitary Dig.
But speaking of the race, sir, do you happen to know anything?" "I know that it is to be run on the fifteenth of July," said Barnabas abstractedly. "Oh, very good!" exclaimed Mr. Smivvle "ha! ha! excellent! knows it is to be run on the fifteenth; very facetious, curse me! But, joking apart, sir, have you any private knowledge? The Viscount, now, did he happen to tell you anything that "
Smivvle, belligerent of whisker, "if you would continue to ornament this lordly mansion, James, be more respectful, hereafter, to your master's old and tried friends," saying which Mr. Smivvle gave a twirl to each whisker, and turned to inspect a cabinet of old china. "Sevres, by George!" he murmured, "we'll make it a pound!"
And now there fell a silence so utter that Barnabas could distinctly hear the tick of Natty Bell's great watch in his fob; a silence in which Mr. Smivvle stared with wide-eyed dismay, while Barrymaine sat motionless with his glass half-way to his lips. Then Mr. Chichester laughed again, but the scar glowed upon his pallid cheek, and the lurking demon peeped out of his narrowed eyes.
Smivvle, beginning to fumble for his whisker with strangely clumsy fingers, "why, I mean safe, sir, a very natural wish, surely?" "Yes," said Barnabas, "and you wished to see me, I think?" "To see you?" echoed Mr. Smivvle, still feeling for his whisker, "why, yes, of course " "At least, the Viscount told me so." "Ah? Deuced obliging of the Viscount, very!" "Are you alone?"
"And so you are going to America?" inquired Barnabas, as he sank into a chair, a little wearily. "I sail for New York in three days' time, sir." "But what of your place in Worcestershire?" "Gone, sir," said Mr. Smivvle, beginning to feel for his whisker. "Historic place, though devilish damp and draughty will echo to the tread of a Smivvle no more highly affecting thought, sir oh demmit!"
"And yet he was more violent than ever raved against you like a maniac." "But why?" "It was just after he had received another of Jasper Gaunt's letters, here it is!" and, stooping, Mr. Smivvle picked up a crumpled paper that had lain among the ashes, and smoothing it out, tendered it to Barnabas.
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