le a moment,' he said, when he had done.
'Let us have a look at the husband of the remarkable lady. Hah!' holding
up the light at arm's length. 'A decided expression of face here too,
though not of the same character. Looks as if he were saying, what is
it--Do Not Forget--does he not, Mr Flintwinch?

By Heaven, sir, he does!'

As he returned the candle, he looked at him once more; and then,
leisurely strolling out with him into the hall, declared it to be a
charming old house indeed, and one which had so greatly pleased him that
he would not have missed inspecting it for a hundred pounds. Throughout
these singular freedoms on the part of Mr Blandois, which involved a
general alteration in his demeanour, making it much coarser and rougher,
much more violent and audacious than before, Mr Flintwinch, whose
leathern face was not liable to many changes, preserved its immobility
intact. Beyond now appearing perhaps, to have been left hanging a trifle
too long before that friendly operation of cutting down, he outwardly
maintained an equable composure. They had brought their survey to a
close in the little room at the side of the hall, and he stood there,
eyeing Mr Blandois.

'I am glad you are so well satisfied, sir,' was his calm remark. 'I
didn't expect it. You seem to be quite in good spirits.'

'In admirable spirits,' returned Blandois. 'Word of honour! never more
refreshed in spirits. Do you ever have presentiments, Mr Flintwinch?'

'I am not sure that I know what you mean by the term, sir,' replied that
gentleman.

'Say, in this case, Mr Flintwinch, undefined anticipations of pleasure
to come.'

'I can't say I'm sensible of such a sensation at present,' returned Mr
Flintwinch with the utmost gravity. 'If I should find it coming on, I'll
mention it.'

'Now I,' said Blandois, 'I, my son, have a presentiment to-night that we
shall be well acquainted. Do you find it coming on?'

'N-no,' returned Mr Flintwinch, deliberately inquiring of himself. 'I
can't say I do.'

'I have a strong presentiment that we shall become intimately
acquainted.--You have no feeling of that sort yet?'

'Not yet,' said Mr Flintwinch.

Mr Blandois, taking him by both shoulders again, rolled him about a
little in his former merry way, then drew his arm through his own, and
invited him to come off and drink a bottle of wine like a dear deep old
dog as he was.

Without a moment's indecision, Mr Flintwinch accepted the invitation,
and t