Bag om The Tenants of Malory
"There's some 'Old Tom, ' isn't there? Get it, and glasses and cold water, here," said Cleve to his servant, who, patient, polite, sleepy, awaited his master. "You used to like it-and here are cigars;" and he shook out a shower upon his drawing-room table cover. "And where did you want to go at this time of night?" "To Wright's, to see the end of the great game of billiards-Seller and Culverin, you know; I've two pounds on it." "I don't care if I go with you, just now. What's this?-When the devil did this come?" Cleve had picked up and at one pale glance read a little note that lay on the table; and then he repeated coolly enough- "I say, when did this come?" "Before one, sir, I think," said Shepperd. "Get me my coat," and Shepperd disappeared. "Pestered to death," he said, moodily. "See, you have got the things here, and cigars. I shan't be five minutes away. If I'm longer, don't wait for me; but finish this first." Cleve had turned up the collar of his outer coat, and buttoned it across his chin, and pulled a sort of travelling cap down on his brows, and away he went, looking very pale and anxious.
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