Joseph paused and scratched
the back of his neck pensively with one finger.
"Will you be writin' to Mr. Oscard, sir, for me to take?"
"Yes."
"Then I should be obliged if you would mention the fact that I would
rather not be left alone with that blackguard Durnovo, either up at
the Platter or travelling down. That man's got on my nerves, sir;
and I'm mortal afraid of doing him a injury. He's got a long neck--
you've noticed that, perhaps. There was a little Gourkha man up in
Cabul taught me a trick--it's as easy as killing a chicken--but you
want a man wi' a long neck--just such a neck as Durnovo's."
"But what harm has the man done you," asked Meredith, "that you
think so affectionately of his neck?"
"No harm, sir, but we're just like two cats on a wall, watchin' each
other and hating each other like blue poison. There's more villainy
at that man's back than you think for--mark my words."
Joseph moved towards the door.
"Do you KNOW anything about him--anything shady?" cried Meredith
after him.
"No, sir. I don't KNOW anything. But I suspects a whole box full.
One of these days I'll find him out, and if I catch him fair
there'll be a rough and tumble. It'll be a pretty fight, sir, for
them that's sittin' in the front row."
Joseph rubbed his hands slowly together and departed, leaving his
master to begin a long letter to Guy Oscard.
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