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drawing-master. 'I am on the brink of something new, Sir.' And he
presented the advertisement.
'Why, what is this?' cried Michael, sitting suddenly up. He studied
it for half a minute with a frown. 'Pitman, I don't care about this
document a particle,' said he.
'It will have to be attended to, however,' said Pitman.
'I thought you'd had enough of Waterloo,' returned the lawyer. 'Have you
started a morbid craving? You've never been yourself anyway since you
lost that beard. I believe now it was where you kept your senses.'
'Mr Finsbury,' said the drawing-master, 'I have tried to reason this
matter out, and, with your permission, I should like to lay before you
the results.'
'Fire away,' said Michael; 'but please, Pitman, remember it's Sunday,
and let's have no bad language.'
'There are three views open to us,' began Pitman. 'First this may
be connected with the barrel; second, it may be connected with Mr
Semitopolis's statue; and third, it may be from my wife's brother, who
went to Australia. In the first case, which is of course possible, I
confess the matter would be best allowed to drop.'
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