Moreover, when they came to the doorway he did not
budge an inch nor did he take his cigar from his mouth; and so, as it
had never been Mr. Trelyon's fashion to sidle past any one, that young
gentleman made straight for the middle of the passage, keeping
his shoulders very square. The consequence was a collision. The
imperturbable person with his hands in his pockets was sent staggering
against the wall, while his cigar dropped on the stone. "What the
devil--!" he was beginning to say, when Trelyon got the three women
past him and into the small parlor. Then he went back: "Did you wish
to speak to me, sir? No, you didn't: I perceive you are a prudent
person. Next time ladies pass you, you'd better take your cigar out of
your mouth or somebody'll destroy that two-pennyworth of tobacco for
you. Good-morning."
Then he returned to the little parlor, to which a waitress had been
summoned: "Now, Jinny, pull yourself together and let's have something
nice for luncheon--in an hour's time, sharp. You will, won't you? And
how about that Sillery with the blue star--not the stuff with the gold
head that some abandoned ruffian in Plymouth brews in his back garden.
Well, can't you speak?"
"Yes, sir," said the bewildered maid.
"That's a good thing--a very good thing," said he, putting the shawls
together on a sofa. "Don't you forget how to speak until you get
married. And don't let anybody come into this room.
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