"
"Well, I'll tell you," said Captain Bostock. "I have
seen men like you baked and eaten, and complained of
afterwards. Some was tough, and some hadn't no
flaviour," he added grimly.
"What do you mean by that?" cried Tom.
"I mean I don't care," cried Bostock. "It ain't any of
my interests. I haven't underwrote your life. Only
I'm blest if I'm not sorry for the cannibal as tries to
eat your head. And what I recommend is a cheap, smart
coffin and a good undertaker. See if you can find a
house to give you credit for a coffin! Look at your
friend there: HE'S got some sense; he's laughing at
you so as he can't stand."
The exact degree of ill-feeling in Mr. Bostock's mind
was difficult to gauge; perhaps there was not much,
perhaps he regarded his remarks as a form of courtly
badinage. But there is little doubt that Hadden
resented them. He had even risen from his place, and
the conference was on the point of breaking up when a
new voice joined suddenly in the conversation.
The cabman sat with his back turned upon the party,
smoking a meerschaum pipe.
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