Who ever saw me on my knees? What the devil does the fellow
know? Gad, I've not had an affair these twenty years. I defy him." And
the old campaigner turned round and slept pretty sound, being rather
excited and amused by the events of the day--the last day in
Bury-street, he was determined it should be. "For it's impossible to
stay on with a valet over me and a bankrupt landlady. What good can I
do this poor devil of a woman? I'll give her twenty pound--there's
Warrington's twenty pound, which he has just paid--but what's the
use? She'll want more, and more, and more, and that cormorant Morgan
will swallow all. No, dammy, I can't afford to know poor people; and
to-morrow I'll say good-by--to Mrs. Brixham and Mr. Morgan."
CHAPTER XXX.
IN WHICH THE MAJOR NEITHER YIELDS HIS MONEY NOR HIS LIFE.
[Illustration]
Early next morning Pendennis's shutters were opened by Morgan, who
appeared as usual, with a face perfectly grave and respectful, bearing
with him the old gentleman's clothes, cans of water, and elaborate
toilet requisites.
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