Part 80 (2/2)
”You're the gentleman as is so obligin' as to be Mr. Ravenslee's butler, ain't you?”
”Sich is my perfession,” Mr. Brimberly admitted. ”I am in sole charge of these premises and so being will ask you to withdraw 'ence immediate. I will ask--”
”An' I'll ask you, very p'inted, what you reckon you're doin' in that chair?”
”Doing?”
”I'll ask you, very p'inted, why you're loafin' around wastin' your master's time?”
”Loafing?” cried Mr. Brimberly, very red in the face. ”Loaf--”
”I also ask you, very p'inted, wherefore an' why you loaf, guzzlin' an'
swillin' your master's good liquor?”
”Guzzling!” gasped Mr. Brimberly. ”Oh, 'eavens, this is a outrage, this is! I'll--”
”It sure is! An' so are you, winebibber!”
”Winebib--” Mr. Brimberly choked, his round face grew purple, and he flourished pudgy fists while Mrs. Trapes folded her cotton-gloved hands and watched him.
”Winebibber!” she nodded. ”An' the wine as you now bib is your master's, consequently it was stole, an' bein' stole you're a thief, an' bein' a thief--”
”Thief!” gurgled Mr. Brimberly. ”Ha, thief's a hepithet, thief is, and a hepithet 's hactionable! I'll 'ave you indented for perjoorious expressions--”
”Winebibber!” she sighed. ”Snake an' plunderer!”
”Never,” cried Mr. Brimberly, ”never in all my days did I ever 'earken to such contoomacious contoomacity! 'Oo are you an' wot--”
”Hand over that bottle and what you've left o' them cigars!”
”Woman, begone!” he cried hoa.r.s.ely. ”Woman, if you don't go 'ence this very moment, I'll have you persecuted with the hutmost vigour o' the law for a incorrigible--female!”
”Female!” repeated Mrs. Trapes; and clasping herself in her long, bony arms she shuddered and smiled, though her eyes glared more stonily, and her elbows suggested rapier points, daggers, and other deadly weapons of offence.
”Female it were, I think?” she enquired with another grim and smiling shudder. ”Now, sir, to you I sez, debased creecher, I sez, vulgar an'
dishonest loafer, I sez, sly an' subtle serpent, I sez, return to the back scullery wherefrom you sprang lest I seize you by the hair of your cheeks an' bounce your silly head against the wall--frequent, I sez!”
and very slowly, Mrs. Trapes moved toward him.
Mr. Brimberly hesitated, but before those deadly elbows he blenched, his whiskers wilted all at once, and he retreated backwards; across the s.p.a.cious drawing room, along the hall and down the stairs he went, his pace ever accelerating, until, in full flight, he reached the sanctuary of his pantry, where, having locked himself securely in, he sank panting into a chair to mop beaded brow.
”My word!” said Mr. Brimberly.
CHAPTER x.x.xVIII
IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES UPON HIMSELF A NEW RoLE
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