He must be got rid
of somehow,' repeated his lordship; 'for we shall have no peace while he's
here.'
'If he's after either of the Jawley girls, he'll be bad to shake off,'
observed Jack.
'That's just the point,' replied his lordship, quaffing off his gin with
the air of a man most thoroughly thirsty; 'that's just the point,' repeated
he, setting down his tumbler. 'I think if he is, I could cook his goose for
him.'
'How so?' asked Jack, drinking off his glass.
'Why, I'll tell you,' replied his lordship, replenishing his tumbler, and
passing the old gilt-labelled blue bottle over to Jack; 'you see, Frosty's
a cunning old file, picks up all the news and gossip of the country when
he's out at exercise with the hounds, or in going to cover--knows
everything!--who licks his wife, and whose wife licks him--who's after such
a girl, and so on--and he's found out somehow that this Mr.
What's-his-name isn't the man of metal he's passing for.'
'Indeed,' exclaimed Jack, raising his eyebrows, and squinting his eyes
inside out; Jack's opinion of a man being entirely regulated by his purse.
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