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Chapter XLVIII
Popular rumour concerning the single gentleman and his errand,
travelling from mouth to mouth, and waxing stronger in the
marvellous as it was bandied about - for your popular rumour, unlike
the rolling stone of the proverb, is one which gathers a deal of moss in
its wanderings up and down - occasioned his dismounting at the inn-
door to be looked upon as an exciting and attractive spectacle, which
could scarcely be enough admired; and drew together a large
concourse of idlers, who having recently been, as it were, thrown out
of employment by the closing of the wax-work and the completion of
the nuptial ceremonies, considered his arrival as little else than a
special providence, and hailed it with demonstrations of the liveliest
joy.
Not at all participating in the general sensation, but wearing the
depressed and wearied look of one who sought to meditate on his
disappointment in silence and privacy, the single gentleman alighted,
and handed out Kit's mother with a gloomy politeness which
impressed the lookers-on extremely. That done, he gave her his arm
and escorted her into the house, while several active waiters ran on
before as a skirmishing party, to clear the way and to show the room
which was ready for their reception.
'
Any room will do,' said the single gentleman. 'Let it be near at hand,
that's all.'
'Close here, sir, if you please to walk this way.'
'
Would the gentleman like this room?' said a voice, as a little out-of-
the-way door at the foot of the well staircase flew briskly open and a
head popped out. 'He's quite welcome to it. He's as welcome as flowers
in May, or coals at Christmas. Would you like this room, sir? Honour
me by walking in. Do me the favour, pray.'
'
Goodness gracious me!' cried Kit's mother, falling back in extreme
surprise, 'only think of this!'
She had some reason to be astonished, for the person who proffered
the gracious invitation was no other than Daniel Quilp. The little door
out of which he had thrust his head was close to the inn larder; and
there he stood, bowing with grotesque politeness; as much at his ease
as if the door were that of his own house; blighting all the legs of
mutton and cold roast fowls by his close companionship, and looking
like the evil genius of the cellars come from underground upon some
work of mischief.
'Would you do me the honour?' said Quilp.
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