He was audacious enough to win her virgin heart and then break it,
so Miss Twexby thought the wisest thing would be to keep him at a
distance. So Vandeloup's bright smiles and merry jokes failed to
call forth any response from the fair Martha, who sat silently in
the bar, looking like a crabbed sphinx.
'Is my friend Pierre in?' asked Vandeloup, leaning across the
counter, and looking lovingly at Miss Twexby.
That lady intimated coldly that he was in, and had been for the last
two weeks; also that she was sick of him, and she'd thank M.
Vandeloup to clear him out--all of which amused Vandeloup mightily,
though he still continued to smile coolly on the sour-faced damsel
before him.
'Would you mind going and telling him I want to see him?' he asked,
lounging to the door.
'Me!' shrieked Martha, in a shrill voice, shooting up from behind
the counter like an infuriated jack-in-the-box. 'No, I shan't. Why,
the last time I saw him he nearly cut me like a ham sandwich with
that knife of his. I am not,' pursued Miss Twexby, furiously, 'a
loaf of bread to be cut, neither am I a pin-cushion to have things
stuck into me; so if you want to be a corpse, you'd better go up
yourself.'
'I hardly think he'll touch me,' replied Vandeloup, coolly, going
towards the door which led to Pierre's bedroom. 'You've had a lot of
trouble with him, I'm afraid; but he's going down to Melbourne
tonight, so it will be all right.
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