Some day, gentlemen, I'll tell you of
this little episode, if you care to hear about it. It was a deal in
a queer sort of mahogany he had asked me to inspect.
"--But to return to the island, and wind up. Hales found me there,
alive and hearty, Foe. For why? Because I had found a purpose in
me--to wait and, when time came, to hunt you to the ends of the
earth. It's _my_ turn now. You've taught me, and I'll improve on
your teaching. You've bought a practice, I've learnt; and now I
learn that you've fixed up to marry this Miss Denistoun.
"--Don't I know why? . . . Didn't I see that look in her eyes as she
walked past me, just now?
"--Yes. . . . Santa's look. . . . No secrets between you and me.
But, by God, you shan't! I'll save her from _that_. Sooner than she
shall be wife of yours, I'll marry her myself!"
"Mr. Farrell," said I, "you have learnt much and learnt it sorely:
but you haven't learnt enough. Pick up your hat, take your dog with
you, and walk out."
"That's right enough," said he; "and I'm going. I'm only half a
gentleman yet, and my feelings get the better of me in the wrong way.
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