When he came to the 'ead of the long alley, he
fetched his breath. 'This is indeed a lordly domain!'
he cries. And it was natural he should be interested
in the place, for it seems Mr. Carthew had been kind to
him in the States. In fact, he seemed a grateful kind
of person, and wonderful taken up with flowers."
I heard this story with amazement. The phrases quoted
told their own tale; they were plainly from the
shyster's mint. A few hours back I had seen him a mere
bedlamite and fit for a strait-waistcoat; he was
penniless in a strange country; it was highly probable
he had gone without breakfast; the absence of Norris
must have been a crushing blow; the man (by all reason)
should have been despairing. And now I heard of him,
clothed and in his right mind, deliberate, insinuating,
admiring vistas, smelling flowers, and talking like a
book. The strength of character implied amazed and
daunted me.
"This is curious," I said to the under-gardener; "I
have had the pleasure of some acquaintance with Mr.
Carthew myself; and I believe none of our western
friends ever were in England.
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