' A dead silence then prevailed,
interrupted only by the snap, snap, snapping of Jack's toothpick against
his chair-edge, when he was not busy exploring his mouth with it. It seemed
to be a match which should keep silence longest. Jack sat Squinting his
eyes inside out at Sponge, while Sponge pretended to be occupied with the
fire. The wine being with Sponge, and at length wanting some, he was
constrained to make the first move, by passing it over to Jack, who helped
himself to port and sherry simultaneously--a glass of sherry after dinner
(in Jack's opinion) denoting a gentleman. Having smacked his lips over
that, he presently turned to the glass of port. He checked his hand in
passing it to his mouth, and bore the glass up to his nose.
'Corked, by Jove!' exclaimed he, setting the glass down on the table with a
thump of disgust.
It is curious what unexpected turns things sometimes take in the world, and
how completely whole trains of well-preconcerted plans are often turned
aside by mere accidents such as this. If it hadn't been for the corked
bottle of port, there is no saying but these two worthies would have held a
Quakers' meeting without the 'spirit' moving either of them.
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