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'They never do when they first start off. What's that wreck on the ground there? 'Specimen of his latest impertinence. Torpenhow thrust the torn edges of the canvas together and showed the well-groomed picture to the Nilghai, who looked at it for a moment and whistled. 'It's a chromo, said he, 'a chromo-litholeomargarine fake! What possessed him to do it?
Price, thank Heaven, twice as much as for the first sketch, which was moderately decent. 'And do you suppose you're going to give that thing out as your work? 'Why not? I did it. Alone I did it, in the interests of sacred, home-bred Art and Dickenson's Weekly. Torpenhow smoked in silence for a while.
'I beg your pardon, said he. 'It seems an absurd question to ask, but the fact is that I don't know her by any other name: Is there any young lady here that is called Maisie? 'I am Maisie, was the answer from the depths of a great sun-hat. 'I ought to introduce myself, he said, as the horse capered in the blinding white dust. 'My name is Torpenhow.
'My goodness! said he to Torpenhow, 'and this gray oaf dares to be a thief! I have seen an Esneh camel-driver have the black hide taken off his body in strips for stealing half a pound of wet dates, and he was as tough as whipcord. This things' soft all over like a woman. There are few things more poignantly humiliating than being handled by a man who does not intend to strike.
'That would be a better song if her head were turned the other way to the Ushant light, for instance, said the Nilghai. 'Flinging his arms about like a mad windmill, said Torpenhow. 'Give us something else, Nilghai. You're in fine fog-horn form tonight. 'Give us the "Ganges Pilot"; you sang that in the square the night before El-Maghrib.
When Torpenhow returned with a gigantic portfolio, he heard Dick say, almost soothingly, 'Now, I hope this will be a lesson to you; and if you worry me when I have settled down to work with any nonsense about actions for assault, believe me, I'll catch you and manhandle you, and you'll die. You haven't very long to live, anyhow. Go! Imshi, Vootsak, get out! The man departed, staggering and dazed.
'These will do, he said at last; 'I can't say I think much of your taste in slippers, but the fit's the thing. He slipped his feet into a pair of sock-like sambhur-skin foot coverings, found a long chair, and lay at length. 'They're my own pet pair, Torpenhow said. 'I was just going to put them on myself. 'All your reprehensible selfishness.
The injustice of the proceedings did not much move him; he had seen the strong hand prevail too often in other places to be squeamish over the moral aspects of right and wrong. But he ardently desired the blood of the gentleman in the frockcoat, and when he spoke again, and when he spoke again it was with a strained sweetness that Torpenhow knew well for the beginning of strife.
'I put a sovereign in the tobacco-jar yesterday. How do you expect a man to keep his accounts properly if you Here the Nilghai began to laugh, and Torpenhow joined him. 'Hid a sovereign yesterday! You're no sort of financier. You lent me a fiver about a month back. Do you remember? Torpenhow said. 'Yes, of course.
Great Heavens, the only difficulty is to know where I'm to stop. But I shall stay here, as I told you before. 'Then you'll be buried in Kensal Green and turn into adipocere with the others, said Torpenhow. 'Are you thinking of commissions in hand? Pay forfeit and go. You've money enough to travel as a king if you please. 'You've the grisliest notions of amusement, Torp.
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