Smivvle uttered a startled
exclamation, and, motioning Barnabas to be seated in the dingiest
corner, strode quickly to the door, and thus came face to face with
Ronald Barrymaine upon the threshold.
"Why, Barry!" said he, standing so as to block Barrymaine's view of
the dingy corner, "so you've come back, then?"
"Come back, yes!" returned the other petulantly, "I had to,--mislaid
a letter, must have left it here, somewhere. Did you find it?"
"Axing your pardon, sir, but might you be name o' Barrymaine, no
offence, but might you?"
The shaggy head had slid quite into the room now, bringing after it
a short, thick-set person clad after the fashion of a bargeman.
"Yes; what do you want?"
"Might this 'ere be the letter as you come back for,--no offence,
but might it?"
"Yes! yes," cried Barrymaine, and, snatching it, he tore it fiercely
across and across, and made a gesture as if to fling the fragments
into the hearth, then thrust them into his pocket instead. "Here's a
shilling for you," said he, turning to the bargeman, "that is--Dig,
l-lend me a shilling, I--" Ronald Barrymaine's voice ended abruptly,
for he had caught sight of Barnabas sitting in the dingy corner, and
now, pushing past Smivvle, he stood staring, his handsome features
distorted with sudden fury, his teeth gleaming between his parted
lips.
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