"I'll sit down here," said Kinch, who espied an old box in the back part of
the entry, "and give myself a little time to blow."
He had not sat long before he heard footsteps on the stairs, and presently
the sound of voices became quite audible.
"That's him," ejaculated Kinch, as Mr. Stevens was heard saying, in an
angry tone,--"Yes; and a devil of a scrape I got into by your want of
sobriety. Had you followed my directions, and met me at Whitticar's,
instead of getting drunk as a beast, and being obliged to go home to bed,
it wouldn't have happened."
"Well, squire," replied McCloskey, for he was the person addressed by Mr.
Stevens, "a man can't be expected always to keep sober."
"He ought to when he has business before him," rejoined Mr. Stevens,
sharply; "how the devil am I to trust you to do anything of importance,
when I can't depend on your keeping sober a day at a time? Come up to this
top landing," continued he, "and listen to me, if you think you are sober
enough to comprehend what I say to you."
They now approached, and stood within a few feet of the place where Kinch
was sitting, and Mr. Stevens said, with a great deal of emphasis, "Now, I
want you to pay the strictest attention to what I say. I had a list of
places made out for you last night, but, somehow or other, I lost it.
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