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Chapter 12. In which a Great Patriotic Conference is holden

           

           ‘Didyoueverseesuchathingasthis?’saidFerdinandtoBarwhenhehadbeenbaffledtwentytimes.

           ‘Often,’returnedBar.

           ‘UnlessIbuttoneofthemintoanappointedcorner,andyoubutttheother,’saidFerdinand,‘itwillnotcomeoffafterall.’

           ‘Verygood,’saidBar.‘I’llbuttMerdle,ifyoulike;butnotmylord.’

           Ferdinandlaughed,inthemidstofhisvexation.‘Confoundthemboth!’saidhe,lookingathiswatch.‘Iwanttogetaway.Whythedeucecan’ttheycometogether!Theybothknowwhattheywantandmeantodo.Lookatthem!’

           Theywerestillloomingatoppositeendsoftheperspective,eachwithanabsurdpretenceofnothavingtheotheronhismind,whichcouldnothavebeenmoretransparentlyridiculousthoughhisrealmindhadbeenchalkedonhisback.Bishop,whohadjustnowmadeathirdwithBarandFerdinand,butwhoseinnocencehadagaincuthimoutofthesubjectandwashedhiminsweetoil,wasseentoapproachLordDecimusandglideintoconversation.

           ‘ImustgetMerdle’sdoctortocatchandsecurehim,Isuppose,’saidFerdinand;‘andthenImustlayholdofmyillustriouskinsman,anddecoyhimifIcan—draghimifIcan’t—totheconference.’

           ‘Sinceyoudomethehonour,’saidBar,withhisslyestsmile,toaskformypooraid,itshallbeyourswiththegreatestpleasure.Idon’tthinkthisistobedonebyoneman.Butifyouwillundertaketopenmylordintothatfurthestdrawing-roomwhereheisnowsoprofoundlyengaged,IwillundertaketobringourdearMerdleintothepresence,withoutthepossibilityofgettingaway.

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