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Updated: May 4, 2025
Old Simon, in the dimly-lit back parlour, was already snoring, and only Miss Twexby, amid the glitter of the glasses in the bar and the glare of the sunshine through the open door, was wide awake. Customers came in for foaming tankards of beer, and sometimes a little girl, with a jug hidden under her apron, would appear, with a request that it might be filled for 'mother', who was ironing.
'You wicked old wretch, said Miss Twexby, viciously her nose getting redder with suppressed excitement 'go along with you, and take that irreligious parrot with you, or I'll wake my par.
'So we are, said Miss Twexby, biting off a bit of cotton, as if she wished it were Pierre's head; 'he is going down to Melbourne the day after to-morrow. Slivers got weary of hearing about Pierre, and plunged right off into the object of his visit. 'That Vandeloup, he began. 'Well? said Miss Twexby, letting the work fall on her lap. 'What time did he come home the night he stopped here?
This being undeniable, the fair Martha for that was the name of the Twexby heiress without waiting for any assent, walking into the back parlour, read the letter to her father, and waited instructions, for she always referred to Simon as the head of the house, though as a matter of fact she never did what she was told save when it tallied with her own wishes.
Dressed in flannels, with a blue scarf tied carelessly round his waist, a blue necktie knotted loosely round his throat under the collar of his shirt, and wearing a straw hat on his fair head, he looked wonderfully cool and handsome, and as he leaned over the counter composedly smoking a cigarette, Miss Twexby thought that the hero of her novel must have stepped bodily out of the book.
'Whisky, said Slivers, curtly, leaning his chin on his stick, and following her movements with his one eye. 'I say! 'Well? asked Miss Twexby, coming from behind the bar with a glass and a bottle of whisky, 'what do you say? 'How's that good-looking Frenchman? asked Slivers, pouring himself out some liquor, and winking at her in a rakish manner with his one eye.
'You've had a lot of trouble with him, I'm afraid; but he's going down to Melbourne tonight, so it will be all right. 'And the bill? queried Miss Twexby, anxiously. 'I will pay it, said Vandeloup, at which she was going to say he was very generous, but suppressed the compliment when he added, 'out of his own money.
The dumb devil went to bed at half-past nine, and Mr Vandeloup at half-past twelve, and they neither of them came out of their rooms till next morning. 'How do you know Vandeloup was in at twelve? asked Slivers, still unconvinced. 'Drat the man, what's he worryin' about? rejoined Miss Twexby, snappishly; 'I let him in myself.
Thin, tight-laced, with a shrill voice and an acidulated temper, Miss Twexby was still a spinster, and not even the fact of her being an heiress could tempt any of the Ballarat youth to lead her to the altar. Consequently Miss Twexby's temper was not a golden one, and she ruled the hotel and its inmates her father included with a rod of iron.
Pierre, of course, did not answer, but touched his lips with his hand to indicate he was dumb. Miss Twexby, however, read the action another way. 'You want a drink, she said, with a scornful toss of her head. 'Where's your money?
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