Book the Second - the Golden Thread
12. XII. The Fellow of Delicacy
(continued)
It was a bit of the art of an Old Bailey tactician, in which he
found great relief. "You shall not put me in the wrong, young lady,"
said Mr. Stryver; "I'll do that for you."
Accordingly, when Mr. Lorry called that night as late as ten o'clock,
Mr. Stryver, among a quantity of books and papers littered out for
the purpose, seemed to have nothing less on his mind than the subject
of the morning. He even showed surprise when he saw Mr. Lorry, and
was altogether in an absent and preoccupied state.
"Well!" said that good-natured emissary, after a full half-hour of
bootless attempts to bring him round to the question. "I have
been to Soho."
"To Soho?" repeated Mr. Stryver, coldly. "Oh, to be sure!
What am I thinking of!"
"And I have no doubt," said Mr. Lorry, "that I was right in the
conversation we had. My opinion is confirmed, and I reiterate my advice."
"I assure you," returned Mr. Stryver, in the friendliest way, "that I
am sorry for it on your account, and sorry for it on the poor father's
account. I know this must always be a sore subject with the family;
let us say no more about it."
"I don't understand you," said Mr. Lorry.
"I dare say not," rejoined Stryver, nodding his head in a smoothing
and final way; "no matter, no matter."
"But it does matter," Mr. Lorry urged.
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