"Ah! and pray why inflict yourself upon me?"
"For a very good and sufficient reason, sir."
"Ha, a reason?" said Mr. Chichester, lounging against the mantel.
"Can it be you have discerned at last that the highly dramatic
meeting between father and son at a certain banquet, not so long ago,
was entirely contrived by myself--that it was my hand drove you from
society and made you the derision of London, Mr. Barty?"
"Why, yes," sighed Barnabas; "I guessed that much, sir."
"Indeed, I admire your perspicacity, Mr. Barty. And now, I presume
you have broken into my house with some brutal idea of pummelling me
with your fists? But, sir, I am no prizefighter, like you and your
estimable father, and I warn you that--"
"Sir," said Barnabas softly, "do not trouble to ring the bell, my
mission here is--not to thrash you."
"No? Gad, sir, but you're very forbearing, on my soul you are!" and
Mr. Chichester smiled; but his nostrils were twitching as his
fingers closed upon the bell-rope. "Now understand me--having shown
up your imposture, having driven you from London, I do not propose
to trouble myself further with you.
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