Quick! give me my
cheque-book--let me give him something before he has a chance to talk to
any one--quick! quick!"
The distracted girl wrung her hands with grief at what she imagined was a
return of her father's malady, and exclaimed, "Oh! if George only would
remain at home--it is too much for me to have the care of father whilst he
is in such a state." Then pretending to be in search of the cheque-book,
she turned over the pamphlets and papers upon his desk, that she might gain
time, and think how it was best to proceed.
Whilst she was thus hesitating, the door of the room was suddenly opened,
and a shabbily dressed man, bearing a strong odour of rum about him, forced
his way into the apartment, saying, "I will see him. D----n it, I don't
care haporth how sick he is--let me go, or by the powers I'll murther some
of yes." The old man's face was almost blanched with terror when he heard
the voice and saw the abrupt entry of the intruder. He sprang from the
chair with a great effort, and then, unable to sustain himself, sunk
fainting on the floor.
"Oh, you have killed my father--you have killed my father! Who are you, and
what do you want, that you dare thrust yourself upon him in this manner?"
said she, stooping to assist in raising him; "cannot you see he is entirely
unfit for any business?"
Mr.
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