“And didn't maind been laughed at.”
“Now, that shows how intelligent you must be,” said the wily one; “the others could not comprehend the trait. Well, you and I must patronize him. Merit is always so dreadfully modest.”
“Yaas.”
This arrangement was admirable, but human; consequently, not without a flaw. Uncle Fountain was left to chance, like the flying atoms of Epicurus, and chance put him at Bazalgette's right hand save one. From this point his inquisitive eye commanded David Dodd and Mrs. Bazalgette, and raked Lucy and her neighbors, who were on the opposite side of the table. People who look, bent on seeing everything, generally see something; item, it is not always what they would like to see.
As they retired to rest for the night, Mr. Fountain invited his friend to his room.
“We shall not have to go home. I have got the key to our antagonist. Young Dodd is her lover.” Talboys shook his head with cool contempt. “What I mean is that she has invited him for her own amusement, not her niece's. I never saw a woman throw herself at any man's head as she did at that sailor's all dinner. Her very husband saw it. He is a cool hand, that Bazalgette; he only grinned, and took wine with the sailor. He has seen a good many go the same road—soldiers, sailors, tinkers, tai—”
Talboys interrupted him. “I really must call you to order. You are prejudiced against poor Mrs. Bazalgette, and prejudice blinds everybody. Politeness required that she should show some attention to her neighbor, but her principal attention was certainly not bestowed on Mr. Dodd.”
Fountain was surprised. “On whom, then?”
“Well, to tell the truth, on your humble servant.”
Fountain stared. “I observed she did not neglect you; but when she turned to Dodd her face puckered itself into smiles like a bag.”