"The Dutchman was right, after all. " So saying, he sprang, with a bound like that of a tiger-cat, against the throat of the woollen-draper. Sudden indignation boiled up in him. I love you—unendurably. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. ’ ‘Listen. It’s not like we’re getting married. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once.
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