He came rolling into the room, grinning as if he had done
something fine in being late. He had both his great red hands in his tight
trouser pockets, and drew the right one out to favour his friends with it
'all hot.'
'I'm late, I guess,' said he, grinning round at the assembled guests, now
dispersed in the various attitudes of expectant eaters, some standing ready
for a start, some half-sitting on tables and sofa ends, others resigning
themselves complacently to their chairs, abusing Mr. Pacey and all dinner
delayers.
'I'm late, I guess,' repeated he, as he now got navigated up to his host
and held out his hand.
'Oh, never mind,' replied Puffington, accepting as little of the proffered
paw as he could; 'never mind,' repeated he, adding, as he looked at the
French clock on the mantelpiece now chiming a quarter past six, 'I dare say
I told you we dined at half-past five.'
'Dare say you did, old boy,' replied Pacey, kicking out his legs, and
giving Puffington what he meant for a friendly poke in the stomach, but
which in reality nearly knocked his wind out; 'dare say you did, old boy,
but so you did last time, if you remember, and deuce a bite
did I get before six; so I thought I'd be quits with you
this--_he--he--he--haw--haw--haw_,' grinning and staring about as if he had
done something very clever.
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