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Chapter 64

           ‘Ithasn’tanythingtodowithyou.’

           ‘Hasitanythingtodowithisitanythingyouheardthroughchinksorkeyholesandthatyouwerenotintendedtohear?’askedDick,inabreathlessstate.

           ‘Yes,’repliedthesmallservant.

           ‘IninBevisMarks?’pursuedDickhastily.‘ConversationsbetweenBrassandSally?’

           ‘Yes,’criedthesmallservantagain.

           RichardSwivellerthrusthislankarmoutofbed,and,grippingherbythewristanddrawingherclosetohim,badeheroutwithit,andfreelytoo,orhewouldnotanswerfortheconsequences;beingwhollyunabletoendurethestateofexcitementandexpectation.She,seeingthathewasgreatlyagitated,andthattheeffectsofpostponingherrevelationmightbemuchmoreinjuriousthananythatwerelikelytoensuefromitsbeingmadeatonce,promisedcompliance,onconditionthatthepatientkepthimselfperfectlyquiet,andabstainedfromstartinguportossingabout.

           ‘Butifyoubegintodothat,’saidthesmallservant,‘I’llleaveoff.AndsoItellyou.’

           ‘Youcan’tleaveoff,tillyouhavegoneon,’saidDick.‘Anddogoon,there’sadarling.Speak,sister,speak.PrettyPollysay.Ohtellmewhen,andtellmewhere,prayMarchioness,Ibeseechyou!’

           Unabletoresisttheseferventadjurations,whichRichardSwivellerpouredoutaspassionatelyasiftheyhadbeenofthemostsolemnandtremendousnature,hiscompanionspokethus:

           ‘Well!BeforeIrunaway,Iusedtosleepinthekitchenwhereweplayedcards,youknow.

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