Chichcster laughed
again, and laid his hand upon the latch of the door. But Barnabas
sat rigid, and did not move or lift his heavy head even when the
door opened and closed, and he knew he was alone.
Very still lie sat there, crouched above the table, his face hidden
in his hands, until he was roused by a cough, the most perfectly
discreet and gentleman-like cough in the world, such a cough, indeed,
as only a born waiter could emit.
"Sir," inquired the waiter, his napkin in a greater flutter than ever,
as Barnabas looked up, "sir,--is there hanythink you're wanting, sir?"
"Yes," said Barnabas, heavily, "you can--give me--my hat!"
CHAPTER XLIV
OF THE TRIBULATIONS OF THE LEGS OF THE GENTLEMAN-IN-POWDER
The Gentleman-in-Powder, aware of a knocking, yawned, laid aside the
"Gazette," and getting upon his legs (which, like all things truly
dignified, were never given to hurry), they, in due season, brought
him to the door, albeit they shook with indignant quiverings at the
increasing thunder of each repeated summons. Therefore the
Gentleman-in-Powder, with his hand upon the latch, having paused
long enough to vindicate and compose his legs, proceeded to open the
portal of Number Five, St.
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