Pacey now objects to him altogether. 'S-c-e-u-s-e me, sir; s-c-e-u-s-e me,
sir,' simpers our friend Dick Bragg, sidling up to the objector with a sort
of tendency of his turn-back-wristed hand to his hat. 'S-c-e-u-s-e me, sir;
s-c-e-u-s-e me,' repeats he, 'but I think you was wrong, sir, in objecting
to Captain Boville, sir, as a gen'l'man rider, sir.'
'Why?' demands Pacey, in the full flush of victory.
'Oh, sir--because, sir--in fact, sir--he _is_ a gen'l'man, sir.'
'_Is_ a gentleman! How do _you_ know?' demands Pacey, in the same tone as
before.
'Oh, sir, he's a gen'l'man--an undoubted gen'l'man. Everything about him
shows that. Does nothing--breeches by Anderson--boots by Bartley; besides
which, he drinks wine every day, and has a whole box of cigars in his
bedroom. But don't take my word for it, pray,' continued Bragg, seeing
Pacey was wavering; 'don't take my word for it, pray. There's a gen'l'man,
a countryman of his, somewhere about,' added he, looking anxiously into the
surrounding crowd--there's a gen'l'man, a countryman of his, somewhere
about, if we could but find him,' Bragg standing on his tiptoes, and
exclaiming, 'Mr.
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