"
Crack. On EDWIN DROOD'S part.
Hic. On Mr. BUMSTEAD'S part.
"Nobody's dictated a marriage for you, JACK. _You_ can choose for
yourself. Life for _you_ is still fraught with freedom's intoxicating--"
Mr. BUMSTEAD has suddenly become very pale, and perspires heavily on the
forehead.
"Good Heavens, JACK! I haven't hurt your feelings?"
Mr. BUMSTEAD makes a feeble pass at him with the water-decanter, and
smiles in a very ghastly manner.
"Lem me be a mis'able warning to you, EDWIN," says Mr. BUMSTEAD,
shedding tears.
The scared face of the younger recalls him to himself, and he adds:
"Don't mind me, my dear boys. It's cloves; you may notice them on my
breath. I take them for nerv'shness." Here he rises in a series of
trembles to his feet, and balances, still very pale, on one leg.
"You want cheering up," says EDWIN DROOD, kindly.
"Yesh--cheering up. Let's go and walk in the graveyard," says Mr.
BUMSTEAD.
"By all means. You won't mind my slipping out for half a minute to the
Alms House to leave a few gum-drops for Sissy? Rather spoony, JACK."
Mr. BUMSTEAD almost loses his balance in an imprudent attempt to wink
archly, and says, "Norring-half-sh'-shweet-'n-life." He is very thick
with EDWIN DROOD, for he loves him.
"Well, let's skedaddle, then.
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