It's ten now."
"What's that to you?" answered Graham, with an insolent look.
"It's something to me that you nice young men have been making such a
row that none of the rest of us can hear our own voices, and that,
between you, you've made this study in such a mess that I can't
endure it."
"Pooh!" said Pietrie; "we're all getting such saints, that one can't
have the least bit of spree now-a-days."
"Spree!" burst in Montagu indignantly; "fine spree, to make sots of
yourselves with spirits; fine spree, to----"
"Amen!" said Wildney, who was perched on the back of a chair; and he
turned up his eyes and clasped his hands with a mock-heroic air.
"There, Williams," continued Montagu, pointing to the
mischievous-looking little boy; "see that spectacle, and be ashamed of
yourself, if you can. That's what you lead boys to! Are you anxious to
become the teacher of drunkenness?"
In truth, there was good ground for his sorrowful apostrophe, for the
scene was very painful to a high-minded witness.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337