‘It’s to be hoped he’ll make a better use of his life,’ says Bob Glamour, ‘than I expect he will.’
‘Or than he done afore,’ adds William Williams.
‘But no, not he!’ says Jonathan of the no surname, clinching the quartette.
They speak in a low tone because of his daughter, but she sees that they have all drawn off, and that they stand in a group at the other end of the room, shunning him. It would be too much to suspect them of being sorry that he didn’t die when he had done so much towards it, but they clearly wish that they had had a better subject to bestow their pains on. Intelligence is conveyed to Miss Abbey in the bar, who reappears on the scene, and contemplates from a distance, holding whispered discourse with the doctor. The spark of life was deeply interesting while it was in abeyance, but now that it has got established in Mr Riderhood, there appears to be a general desire that circumstances had admitted of its being developed in anybody else, rather than that gentleman.
‘However,’ says Miss Abbey, cheering them up, ‘you have done your duty like good and true men, and you had better come down and take something at the expense of the Porters.’
This they all do, leaving the daughter watching the father. To whom, in their absence, Bob Gliddery presents himself.
‘His gills looks rum; don’t they?’ says Bob, after inspecting the patient.
Pleasant faintly nods.
‘His gills’ll look rummer when he wakes; won’t they?’ says Bob.
Pleasant hopes not. Why?