‘Don’t worry her to-night, governor,’ he said. ‘She’s a good little sort, and her mother’s dying.’
‘Vy the tevil didn’t you zay zo? demanded the manager. ‘How am I to know? Gif her a zovereign,’ he whispered, ‘and ask her if she vants anything—bort-wine or chellies. You know.’ Then he turned, roaring: ‘Vere is Miss Lawrence’s understudy? Zing, if you please, Miss Clewes. I never sbeak to beobles twice. You may go home, Miss Lawrence. Dell Villips if you want anything, ant I’ll zee to it. Vy the tevil don’t beobles zay when there are things the madder at home? Now, Miss Clewes.’
The lieutenant was back at Paul’s elbow a minute later.
‘The governor’s a hot un,’ he said—‘he’s a fair hot un when he’s at work. But for a heart—well, I’m damned if gold’s in it with him!’
CHAPTER IX
In a month’s time from this Paul’s soul sat chuckling all day long. He lived with the quaintest set he had ever conceived, and there was no page of ‘Nickleby’ which was fuller of comedy than a day of his own life. He met Crummies, and actually heard him wonder how those things got into the papers. He met the Infant Phenomenon. With his own hands he had helped to adjust the immortal real pump and tubs. He was still in the days when there was a farce in an evening’s performance to play the people in, and a solid five-act melodrama for the public’s solid fare, and a farce to play the people out.
Darco travelled with his own company, majestically Astrachan-furred and splendid, but rarely clean-shaven. Nine days in ten an aggressive stubble on cheek and chin seemed to sprout from an inward sense of his own glorious import.
‘I am Cheorge Dargo,’ he said unfailingly to every provincial stage-manager he met ‘I nefer sbeaks to beobles twice.’
His brutalities of demeanour earned for him the noisy hatred of scores of people. His hidden benefactions bought for him the silent blessings of some suffering unit in every town. He bullied by instinct in public. He blessed the suffering by instinct in private. He was cursed by ninety-nine in the hundred, and the odd man adored him. Paul’s heart fastened to the uncouth man, and he did him burningly eager service.