Bimby who was
"always hungry" and played the flute, he stifled his fierce yearning
for dewy wood and copse and the sweet, pure breath of the country,
and thought no more of his father's inn that was so very far from
the sordid grime and suffering of Giles's Rents, down by the River;
and setting the kettle on the fire he sank into a chair and
stretching out his long legs, fell into a profound meditation.
From this he was roused by the opening of the door, and, glancing up,
beheld John Peterby. A very different person he looked from the neat,
well-groomed Peterby of a week ago, what with the rough, ill-fitting
clothes he wore and the fur cap pulled low over his brows; the
gentleman's gentleman had vanished quite, and in his stead was a
nondescript character such as might have been met with anywhere
along the River, or lounging in shadowy corners. He carried a bundle
beneath one arm, and cast a swift look round the room before turning
to see the door behind him.
"Ah," said Barnabas nodding, "I'm glad you're back, John, and with
plenty of provisions I hope, for I'm amazingly hungry, and besides,
I've asked a gentleman to sup with us.
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