"Sir, that--permit me to say--does not concern you."
"Not in the least," the other retorted, "and I bid you good day; you
can go, my man, I am acquainted with this lady; she is quite safe in
my care."
"That, sir, I humbly beg leave to doubt," said Barnabas, his
politeness growing.
"Why--you impudent scoundrel!"
Barnabas smiled.
"Come, take yourself off!" said the gentleman, frowning, "I'll take
care of this lady."
"Pardon me! but I think not."
The gentleman stared at Barnabas through suddenly narrow lids, and
laughed softly, and Barnabas thought his laugh worse than his frown.
"Ha! d' you mean to say you--won't go?"
"With all the humility in the world, I do, sir."
"Why, you cursed, interfering yokel! must I thrash you?"
Now "yokel" stung, for Barnabas remembered his blunt-toed boots,
therefore he smiled with lips suddenly grim, and his politeness grew
almost aggressive.
"Thrash me, sir!" he repeated, "indeed I almost venture to fear that
you must." But the gentleman's gaze had wandered to the fallen girl
once more, and the glow was back in his roving eyes.
"Pah!" said he, still intent, "if it is her purse you are after--here,
take mine and leave us in peace.
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