'Such a gentleman is here,' said Mr. Crisparkle, 'but is engaged
just now.'
'Is it a dark gentleman?' interposed Rosa, retreating on her
guardian.
'No, Miss, more of a brown gentleman.'
'You are sure not with black hair?' asked Rosa, taking courage.
'Quite sure of that, Miss. Brown hair and blue eyes.'
'Perhaps,' hinted Mr. Grewgious, with habitual caution, 'it might
be well to see him, reverend sir, if you don't object. When one is
in a difficulty or at a loss, one never knows in what direction a
way out may chance to open. It is a business principle of mine, in
such a case, not to close up any direction, but to keep an eye on
every direction that may present itself. I could relate an
anecdote in point, but that it would be premature.'
'If Miss Rosa will allow me, then? Let the gentleman come in,'
said Mr. Crisparkle.
The gentleman came in; apologised, with a frank but modest grace,
for not finding Mr. Crisparkle alone; turned to Mr. Crisparkle, and
smilingly asked the unexpected question: 'Who am I?'
'You are the gentleman I saw smoking under the trees in Staple Inn,
a few minutes ago.'
'True. There I saw you. Who else am I?'
Mr. Crisparkle concentrated his attention on a handsome face, much
sunburnt; and the ghost of some departed boy seemed to rise,
gradually and dimly, in the room.
The gentleman saw a struggling recollection lighten up the Minor
Canon's features, and smiling again, said: 'What will you have for
breakfast this morning? You are out of jam.
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