And he walked on, and talked of other things in short sentences, and
parted with Mrs. Sturk with a grim brief kindness at the door, and so
walked with his wiry step away towards the Brass Castle, where his
breakfast awaited him, and he disappeared round the corner of Martin's
Row.
'And which way was he going when you met him and that--that _Nutter_?'
demanded Sturk, who was talking in high excitement, and not being able
to find an epithet worthy of Nutter, made it up by his emphasis and his
scowl. She told him.
'H'm! then, he can't have got my note yet!'
She looked at him in a way that plainly said, 'what note?' but Sturk
said no more, and he had trained her to govern her curiosity.
As Dangerfield passed Captain Cluffe's lodgings, he heard the gay tinkle
of a guitar, and an amorous duet, not altogether untunefully sung to
that accompaniment; and he beheld little Lieutenant Puddock's back, with
a broad scarlet and gold ribbon across it, supporting the instrument on
which he was industriously thrumming, at the window, while Cluffe, who
was emitting a high note, with all the tenderness he could throw into
his robust countenance, and one of those involuntary distortions which
in amateurs will sometimes accompany a vocal effort, caught the eye of
the cynical wayfarer, and stopped short with a disconcerted little cough
and a shake of his chops, and a grim, rather red nod, and 'Good-morning,
Mr.
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