"No, my Lord; I wish 'ee was. 'Ee's worse than
hill. 'Ee's got one of 'is moods."
"Poor Harold! I thought he had got over all that since he had given
himself over to the distractions of wine, woman, and song. I haven't
seen him in one of his moods for three or four years."
"Ah, sir, I 'ave, then. 'Ee don't 'ave them so frequent like before he
begun to travel, but hevery wunst in a while 'ee will be terrible for
two hor three days; but I never see hanything like this before, heven
at Crumford 'All. 'Ee 'as never spoke for a week; not since the night
of the ball hat the Russian Legation."
"By Jove! you don't mean it. I thought he was on a 'private tear,' as
the Americans say; but I don't like this at all. Just clear out, and
I'll be dressed and over in his rooms in less than half an hour." And
he sprang out of bed before Jones had closed the door.
He was but a few moments dressing, as he had promised, and was at
Dartmouth's apartment before Jones had time to become impatient,
nervous as he was. He pulled aside the portiere of the salon and
looked in.
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