"
"Friend!" exclaimed Mr. Chichester, laughing again, "friend, Ronald?
Nay, let us rather say your guardian angel in cords and Hessians."
"Since you condescend to mention my boots, sir," said Barnabas
growing polite, "may I humbly beg you to notice that, in spite of
their polish and tassels, they are as strong, as serviceable for
kicking purposes as those I wore when we last--sat at table together."
Mr. Chichester's iron self-control wavered for a moment, his brows
twitched together, and he turned upon Barnabas with threatening
gesture but, reading the purpose in the calm eye and smiling lip of
Barnabas, he restrained himself; yet seeming aware of the glowing
mark upon his cheek, he turned suddenly and, coming to the dingy
casement, stood with his back to the room, staring down into the
dingy street. Then Barnabas leaned forward and laid his hand upon
Barrymaine's, and it so happened it was the hand that yet held the
slopping wineglass.
"Think--think!" said Barnabas earnestly, "once you are free of Gaunt,
life will begin afresh for you, you can hold up your head again--"
"Though never in London, Ronald, I fear," added Mr.
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