sir." At last,
however, his conversation became unbearable--a foul young
man is odious, but a foul old one is surely the most
sickening thing on earth. One feels that the white upon
the hair, like that upon the mountain, should signify a
height attained. I rose and bade him good-night, with a
last impression of him leaning back in his dressing-gown,
a sodden cigar-end in the corner of his mouth, his beard
all slopped with whisky, and his half-glazed eyes looking
sideways after me with the leer of a satyr. I had to go
into the street and walk up and down for half-an-hour
before I felt clean enough to go to bed.
Well, I wanted to see no more of my neighbour, but in
he came as I was sitting at breakfast, smelling like a
bar-parlour, with stale whisky oozing at every pore.
"Good morning, Dr. Munro, sir," said he, holding
out a twitching hand. "I compliment you, sir! You look
fresh, ---- fresh, and me with a head like a toy-shop.
We had a pleasant, quiet evening, and I took nothing to
hurt, but it is the ---- relaxing air of this place that
settles me. I can't bear up against it. Last year it
gave me the horrors, and I expect it will again. You're
off house-hunting, I suppose?"
"I start immediately after breakfast."
"I take a cursed interest in the whole thing. You
may think it a ---- impertinence, but that's the way I'm
made. As long as I can steam I'll throw a rope to
whoever wants a tow.
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