The room reeked of tobacco, and the ends and ashes of cigars dotted the
tables and white marble chimney-piece, and the gilt slabs and the finely
flowered Tournay carpet, just as the fires of gipsies dot and disfigure the
fair face of a country. Costly china and nick-nacks of all sorts were
scattered about in profusion. Altogether, it was a beautiful room.
'No want of money here,' said Mr. Sponge to himself, as he eyed it, and
thought what havoc Gustavus James would make among the ornaments if he had
a chance.
He then looked about for pen, ink, and paper. These were distributed so
wide apart as to show the little request they were in. Having at length
succeeded in getting what he wanted gathered together, Mr. Sponge sat down
on the luxurious sofa, considering how he should address his host, as he
hoped. Mr. Sponge was not a shy man, but, considering the circumstances
under which he made Sir Harry Scattercash's acquaintance, together with his
design upon his hospitality--above all, considering the crew by whom Sir
Harry was surrounded--it required some little tact to pave the way without
raising the present inmates of the house against him.
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