With the intense impatience and excitement
natural to one in his condition, Mr Haredale thrust himself forward and
was about to speak, when the fat old gentleman interposed:
'My good sir,' said he, 'pray let me get an answer. This is the sixth
time I have been here. I was here five times yesterday. My house is
threatened with destruction. It is to be burned down to-night, and was
to have been last night, but they had other business on their hands.
Pray let me get an answer.'
'My good sir,' returned Mr Haredale, shaking his head, 'my house is
burned to the ground. But heaven forbid that yours should be. Get your
answer. Be brief, in mercy to me.'
'Now, you hear this, my lord?'--said the old gentleman, calling up
the stairs, to where the skirt of a dressing-gown fluttered on the
landing-place. 'Here is a gentleman here, whose house was actually burnt
down last night.'
'Dear me, dear me,' replied a testy voice, 'I am very sorry for it, but
what am I to do? I can't build it up again. The chief magistrate of the
city can't go and be a rebuilding of people's houses, my good sir. Stuff
and nonsense!'
'But the chief magistrate of the city can prevent people's houses from
having any need to be rebuilt, if the chief magistrate's a man, and
not a dummy--can't he, my lord?' cried the old gentleman in a choleric
manner.
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