He was plainly one of those who feel the constant need of an audience.
And since there was no office-boy present, for him to dazzle with his
wit, he applied himself to demonstrating to his table-companion what a
sad, sad dog he was.
"Women are the deuce, sir," he asserted, lying back in his chair and
sending two trails of smoke from his nostrils. "The very deuce! You
should hear my governor on the subject! He'd tickle your ears for you.
Look here, I'll give you the tip: this move, you know, to Ballarat, that
he's drivin' at: what'ull you bet me there isn't a woman in the case?
Fact! 'Pon my word there is. And a devilish fine woman, too!" He shut
one eye and laid a finger along his nose. "You won't blow the gab?--
that's why you couldn't have your parleyvoo this morning. When milady
comes to town H. O.'s NON EST as long as she's here. And she with a
hubby of her own, too! What 'ud our old pa say to that, eh?"
Mahony, who could draw in his feelers no further than he had done,
touched the limit of his patience. "My connexion with Mr. Ocock is a
purely business one. I have no intention of trespassing on his private
affairs, or of having them thrust upon me. Carver, my bill!"
Bowing distantly he stalked out of the eating-house and back to the
"Criterion," where he dined. "So much for a maiden attempt at economy!"
Towards five o'clock he took his seat in an omnibus that plied between
the city and the seaside suburb of St.
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