Paul gave a short gasp, and leant against a pillar of the
verandah.
"Peter!"
"Paul!"
"Wud 'ee mind pinchin' me i' the ca'f o' the leg, jes' to make sure?"
"I was a-goin' to ax the same favour, Paul."
"Well, churchwarden or no churchwarden, I reckon I _am_ damned!"
"What I complains of in this 'ere fash'nubble life," said Peter
slowly, "es this--'tes too various--by a sight, too various."
"Arter eatin' next door to nuthin' all day, so's we mou'tn' be
behindhand in tacklin' the vittles!"
There was an interval of painful stupor.
"Paul!"
"Peter!"
"I'm reckonin' up what my hunger's wuth at this moment. I dunno as
I'd take twenty pund for 't."
Inside the house Mr. Fogo had sunk into an armchair, and was
regarding the ceiling with thoughtful attention. He was aroused by
steps in the hall, and Tamsin re-entered the room, followed by Caleb
with the soup-tureen.
"Hulloa! where's the Twins?"
"Eh?"
"Es this a round game, or a conjurin' trick?"
"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Fogo turned a dull gaze upon him. Caleb set
down the tureen with a crash, and rushing up shook his master gently,
but firmly, by the collar.
"Where--be--they--Twins?"
"Oh! The Twins? They have gone--gone some five minutes. I saw them
out. It's all--Bless my soul, how extraordinary, to be sure!"
Caleb did not wait for the end of the sentence, but darting out,
discovered the brothers in the porch, and haled them back.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295