Toole, who took up and dropped, in turn,
all sorts of curious theories about the young stranger. Lord
Castlemallard knew all about him, too, but his lordship was high and
huffy, and hardly ever in Chapelizod, except on horseback, and two or
three times in the year at a grand dinner at the Artillery mess. And
when Mervyn was mentioned he always talked of something else, rather
imperiously, as though he said, 'You'll please to observe that upon that
subject I don't choose to speak.' And as for Dr. Walsingham, when he
thought it right to hold his tongue upon a given matter, thumb-screws
could not squeeze it from him.
In short, our friend Toole grew so feverish under his disappointment
that he made an excuse of old Tim Molloy's toothache to go up in person
to the 'Tiled House,' in the hope of meeting the young gentleman, and
hearing something from him (the servants, he already knew, were as much
in the dark as he) to alleviate his distress. And, sure enough, his luck
stood him in stead; for, as he was going away, having pulled out old
Molloy's grinder to give a colour to his visit, who should he find upon
the steps of the hall-door but the pale, handsome young gentleman
himself.
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