Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
Uttering a broken cry Barrymaine struggled up to his feet, strove desperately to speak, his distorted mouth flecked with foam, and beating the air with frantic hands pitched over and thudded to the floor. Then the door opened and Mr. Smivvle appeared who, calling upon Barrymaine's name, ran forward and fell upon his knees beside that convulsed and twisted figure.
"Well, sir?" inquired Barnabas, still busily trimming his quill. Mr. Smivvle frowned; but finding Barnabas was quite unconscious of it, shook his head, felt for his whisker again, found it, tugged it, and laughed jovially. "Sir," said he, "you are a devilish sharp fellow, and a fine fellow. I swear you are.
"Here's a shilling for you," said he, turning to the bargeman, "that is Dig, l-lend me a shilling, I " Ronald Barrymaine's voice ended abruptly, for he had caught sight of Barnabas sitting in the dingy corner, and now, pushing past Smivvle, he stood staring, his handsome features distorted with sudden fury, his teeth gleaming between his parted lips. "So it's you, is it?" he demanded.
Smivvle, meanwhile, was standing downstairs before a mirror, apparently lost in contemplation of his whiskers, and indeed they seemed to afford him a vast degree of pleasure, for he stroked them with caressing fingers, and smiled upon them quite benevolently. "Six pair of silver candlesticks!" he murmured. "Persian rugs! Bric-a-brac, rare costly pictures!
"Because, well, between you and me, my dear fellow, I believe his regard for Barry's half-sister, the Lady Cleone, is largely accountable in Chichester's case; as for myself, because, as I think I mentioned, the hand of a Smivvle once given, sir, is never withdrawn, either on account of plague, poverty, pestilence, or Jews, dammem!
"Oh, all right, give it me!" said Mr. Smivvle, rising. "Are you name o' Barrymaine?" "No, but you can leave it with me, and I " "Leave it?" repeated the head, in a slightly injured tone, "leave it? axing your pardons, gents, but burn my neck if I do! If you ain't name o' Barrymaine v'y then p'r'aps this is 'im a-coming upstairs now, and werry 'asty about it, too!"
Sir, it was a great a great grief to me to lose him for, as I fancy I told you, the hand of a Smivvle, sir but he is gone beyond plague or pestilence, or Jews, dammem! And he died, sir, like a gentleman. So, on his behalf I do thank you deeply, and I beg, herewith, to return you the twenty guineas you would have given him. Here they are, sir." So saying, Mr.
"Though excellent for eavesdropping, it appears!" added Barnabas. "What?" cried Barrymaine, starting up, "listening, were you s-spying on me is that your game, Chichester?" But hereupon Mr. Smivvle started forward. "Now, my dear Barry," he remonstrated, "be calm " "Calm? I tell you nobody's going to spy on me, no, by heaven! neither you, nor Chichester, nor the d-devil himself "
"Indeed, sir," said the Viscount, in a tone of faint surprise, and beckoning a passing ostler, ordered out his curricle. "As I say," repeated Mr. Smivvle, beginning to search for his whisker again, "I have a friend, my Lord " "Congratulate you," murmured the Viscount, pulling at his glove. "A friend who has frequently spoken of your Lordship " "Very kind of him!" murmured the Viscount.
Upon the dark stairs he encountered Mr. Smivvle, who had been sitting there making nervous havoc of his whiskers. "Gad, Beverley!" he exclaimed, "I ought not to have left you alone with him, deuce of a state about it, 'pon my honor. But what could I do, as I sat here listening to you both I was afraid." "So was I," said Barnabas. "But he will be quiet now, I think.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking