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a piece of waste ground, blighted with the unwholesome smoke of
factory chimneys, and echoing the clank of iron wheels and rush of
troubled water. Its internal accommodations amply fulfilled the
promise of the outside. The rooms were low and damp, the clammy
walls were pierced with chinks and holes, the rotten floors had sunk
from their level, the very beams started from their places and warned
the timid stranger from their neighbourhood.
To this inviting spot, entreating him to observe its beauties as they
passed along, Mr Quilp led Richard Swiveller, and on the table of the
summer-house, scored deep with many a gallows and initial letter,
there soon appeared a wooden keg, full of the vaunted liquor. Drawing
it off into the glasses with the skill of a practised hand, and mixing it
with about a third part of water, Mr Quilp assigned to Richard
Swiveller his portion, and lighting his pipe from an end of a candle in
a very old and battered lantern, drew himself together upon a seat and
puffed away.
'
Is it good?' said Quilp, as Richard Swiveller smacked his lips, 'is it
strong and fiery? Does it make you wink, and choke, and your eyes
water, and your breath come short - does it?'
'
Does it?' cried Dick, throwing away part of the contents of his glass,
and filling it up with water, 'why, man, you don't mean to tell me that
you drink such fire as this?'
'
No!' rejoined Quilp, 'Not drink it! Look here. And here. And here
again. Not drink it!'
As he spoke, Daniel Quilp drew off and drank three small glassfuls of
the raw spirit, and then with a horrible grimace took a great many
pulls at his pipe, and swallowing the smoke, discharged it in a heavy
cloud from his nose. This feat accomplished he drew himself together
in his former position, and laughed excessively.
'
Give us a toast!' cried Quilp, rattling on the table in a dexterous
manner with his fist and elbow alternately, in a kind of tune, 'a
woman, a beauty. Let's have a beauty for our toast and empty our
glasses to the last drop. Her name, come!'
'If you want a name,' said Dick, 'here's Sophy Wackles.'
'Sophy Wackles,' screamed the dwarf, 'Miss Sophy Wackles that is -
Mrs Richard Swiveller that shall be - that shall be - ha ha ha!'
'
Ah!' said Dick, 'you might have said that a few weeks ago, but it won't
do now, my buck. Immolating herself upon the shrine of Cheggs - '
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