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'At all events, Mr. Sampson,' said Slinkton, offering me the smooth
gravel path for the last time, 'I thank you for interfering between
me and this unfortunate man's violence. However you came here, Mr.
Sampson, or with whatever motive you came here, at least I thank
you for that.'
'Boil the brandy,' muttered Beckwith.
Without gratifying his desire to know how I came there, I said,
quietly, 'How is your niece, Mr. Slinkton?'
He looked hard at me, and I looked hard at him.
'I am sorry to say, Mr. Sampson, that my niece has proved
treacherous and ungrateful to her best friend. She left me without
a word of notice or explanation. She was misled, no doubt, by some
designing rascal. Perhaps you may have heard of it.'
'I did hear that she was misled by a designing rascal. In fact, I
have proof of it.'
'Are you sure of that?' said he.
'Quite.'
'Boil the brandy,' muttered Beckwith. 'Company to breakfast,
Julius Caesar. Do your usual office, - provide the usual
breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper. Boil the brandy!'
The eyes of Slinkton looked from him to me, and he said, after a
moment's consideration,
'Mr. Sampson, you are a man of the world, and so am I. I will be
plain with you.'
'O no, you won't,' said I, shaking my head.
'I tell you, sir, I will be plain with you.'
'And I tell you you will not,' said I. 'I know all about you. YOU
plain with any one? Nonsense, nonsense!'
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