Datchery, 'His Honour the Mayor does me too
much credit.'
'Diplomacy is a fine profession,' said Mr. Sapsea, as a general
remark.
'There, I confess, His Honour the Mayor is too many for me,' said
Mr. Datchery, with an ingenious smile and bow; 'even a diplomatic
bird must fall to such a gun.'
Now this was very soothing. Here was a gentleman of a great, not
to say a grand, address, accustomed to rank and dignity, really
setting a fine example how to behave to a Mayor. There was
something in that third-person style of being spoken to, that Mr.
Sapsea found particularly recognisant of his merits and position.
'But I crave pardon,' said Mr. Datchery. 'His Honour the Mayor
will bear with me, if for a moment I have been deluded into
occupying his time, and have forgotten the humble claims upon my
own, of my hotel, the Crozier.'
'Not at all, sir,' said Mr. Sapsea. 'I am returning home, and if
you would like to take the exterior of our Cathedral in your way, I
shall be glad to point it out.'
'His Honour the Mayor,' said Mr. Datchery, 'is more than kind and
gracious.'
As Mr. Datchery, when he had made his acknowledgments to Mr.
Jasper, could not be induced to go out of the room before the
Worshipful, the Worshipful led the way down-stairs; Mr. Datchery
following with his hat under his arm, and his shock of white hair
streaming in the evening breeze.
'Might I ask His Honour,' said Mr. Datchery, 'whether that
gentleman we have just left is the gentleman of whom I have heard
in the neighbourhood as being much afflicted by the loss of a
nephew, and concentrating his life on avenging the loss?'
'That is the gentleman.
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