m back.

"Good heavens! what is the matter?"

Babette then narrated what had passed, and as she was very prolix, Mr
Vanslyperken was a mass of snow on the windward side of him before she
had finished, which she did, by pulling down her worsted stockings, and
showing the wounds which she had received as her portion in the last
night's affray. Having thus given ocular evidence of the truth of what
she had asserted, Babette then delivered the message of her mistress; to
wit, "that until the dead body of Snarleyyow was laid at the porch where
they now stood, he, Mr Vanslyperken, would never gain re-admission."
So saying, and not feeling it very pleasant to continue a conversation
in a snow-storm, Babette very unceremoniously slammed the door in Mr
Vanslyperken's face, and left him to digest the communication with what
appetite he might. Mr Vanslyperken, notwithstanding the cold weather,
hastened from the door in a towering passion. The perspiration actually
ran down his face, and mingled with the melting snow. "To be or not to
be"--give up the widow or give up his darling Snarleyyow--a dog whom he
loved the more, the more he was, through him, entangled in scrapes and
vexations--a dog whom every one hated, and therefore he loved--a dog
which had not a single recommendation, and therefore was highly prized--
a dog assailed by all, and especially by that scarecrow Smallbones, to
whom his death would be a victory--it was impossible. But then the
widow--with such lots of guilders in the bank, and such a good income
from the Lust Haus, he had long made up his mind to settle in
possession. It was the haven which, in the vista of his mind, he had
been so long, accustomed to dwell upon, and he could not give up the
hope.

Yet one must be sacrificed. No, he could part with neither. "I have
it," thought he; "I will make the widow believe that I have sacrificed
the dog, and then, when I am once in possession, the dog shall come back
again, and let her say a word if she dares: I'll tame her, and pay her
off for old scores."

Such was the determination of Mr Vanslyperken, as he walked back to the
boat. His reverie was, however, broken by his breaking his nose against
a lamp-post, which did not contribute to his good-humour. "Yes, yes,
Frau Vandersloosh, we will see," muttered Vanslyperken; "you would kill
my dog, would you? It's a dog's life I'll lead you when I'm once secure
of you, Madame Vandersloosh. You cheated me ou