Chapter 32 - Page 2

those which had been borrowed for the occasion from the
public-house, were all drawn up in a tray, which was deposited
on the landing outside the door.

Notwithstanding the highly satisfactory nature of all these
arrangements, there was a cloud on the countenance of Mr. Bob
Sawyer, as he sat by the fireside. There was a sympathising
expression, too, in the features of Mr. Ben Allen, as he gazed
intently on the coals, and a tone of melancholy in his voice, as he
said, after a long silence--
'Well, it is unlucky she should have taken it in her head to turn
sour, just on this occasion. She might at least have waited
till to-morrow.'

'That's her malevolence--that's her malevolence,' returned
Mr. Bob Sawyer vehemently. 'She says that if I can afford to give
a party I ought to be able to pay her confounded "little bill."'
'How long has it been running?' inquired Mr. Ben Allen. A
bill, by the bye, is the most extraordinary locomotive engine that
the genius of man ever produced. It would keep on running
during the longest lifetime, without ever once stopping of its
own accord.

'Only a quarter, and a month or so,' replied Mr. Bob Sawyer.

Ben Allen coughed hopelessly, and directed a searching look
between the two top bars of the stove.

'It'll be a deuced unpleasant thing if she takes it into her head
to let out, when those fellows are here, won't it?' said Mr. Ben
Allen at length.

'Horrible,' replied Bob Sawyer, 'horrible.'
A low tap was heard at the room door. Mr. Bob Sawyer
looked expressively at his friend, and bade the tapper come in;
whereupon a dirty, slipshod girl in black cotton stockings, who
might have passed for the neglected daughter of a superannuated
dustman in very reduced circumstances, thrust in her head, and said--

'Please, Mister Sawyer, Missis Raddle wants to speak to you.'

Before Mr. Bob Sawyer could return any answer, the girl
suddenly disappeared with a jerk, as if somebody had given her
a violent pull behind; this mysterious exit was no sooner
accomplished, than there was another tap at the door--a smart,
pointed tap, which seemed to say, 'Here I am, and in I'm coming.'

Mr, Bob Sawyer glanced at his friend with a look of abject
apprehension, and once more cried, 'Come in.'

The permission was not at all necessary, for, before Mr. Bob
Sawyer had uttered the words, a little, fierce woman bounced
into the room, all in a tremble with passion, and pale with rage.

'Now, Mr. Sawyer,' said the little, fierce woman, trying to
appear very calm, 'if you'll have the kindness to settle that little
bill of mine I'll thank you, because I've got my rent to pay this
afternoon, and my landlord's a-waiting below now.' Here the