BOOK THE SECOND: BIRDS OF A FEATHER
Chapter 16: An Anniversary Occasion (continued)
Mr Lammle, all a-glitter, produces his friend Fledgeby, as dying
for the honour of presentation to Lady Tippins. Fledgeby
presented, has the air of going to say something, has the air of
going to say nothing, has an air successively of meditation, of
resignation, and of desolation, backs on Brewer, makes the tour of
Boots, and fades into the extreme background, feeling for his
whisker, as if it might have turned up since he was there five
minutes ago.
But Lammle has him out again before he has so much as
completely ascertained the bareness of the land. He would seem
to be in a bad way, Fledgeby; for Lammle represents him as dying
again. He is dying now, of want of presentation to Twemlow.
Twemlow offers his hand. Glad to see him. 'Your mother, sir,
was a connexion of mine.'
'I believe so,' says Fledgeby, 'but my mother and her family were
two.'
'Are you staying in town?' asks Twemlow.
'I always am,' says Fledgeby.
'You like town,' says Twemlow. But is felled flat by Fledgeby's
taking it quite ill, and replying, No, he don't like town. Lammle
tries to break the force of the fall, by remarking that some people
do not like town. Fledgeby retorting that he never heard of any
such case but his own, Twemlow goes down again heavily.
'There is nothing new this morning, I suppose?' says Twemlow,
returning to the mark with great spirit.
Fledgeby has not heard of anything.
'No, there's not a word of news,' says Lammle.
'Not a particle,' adds Boots.
'Not an atom,' chimes in Brewer.
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