I thought that I should lose
no time in establishing a kindly relation with him, so I
drew a chair over to his sofa and began to ask him a few
questions about his health and habits. Not a word could
I get out of him in reply. He sat as sullen as a mule,
with a kind of sneer about his handsome face, which
showed me very well that he had heard everything. I
tried this and tried that, but not a syllable could I get
from him; so at last I turned from him and began to look
over some illustrated papers on the table. He doesn't
read, it seems, and will do nothing but look at pictures.
Well, I was sitting like this with my back half turned,
when you can imagine my surprise to feel something
plucking gently at me, and to see a great brown hand
trying to slip its way into my coat pocket. I caught at
the wrist and turned swiftly round, but too late to
prevent my handkerchief being whisked out and concealed
behind the Hon. James Derwent, who sat grinning at me
like a mischievous monkey.
"Come, I may want that," said I, trying to treat the
matter as a joke.
He used some language which was more scriptural than
religious. I saw that he did not mean giving it up, but
I was determined not to let him get the upper hand over
me. I grabbed for the handkerchief; and he, with a
snarl, caught my hand in both of his. He had a powerful
grip, but I managed to get his wrist and to give it a
wrench round, until, with a howl, he dropped my property.
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