“Yes, that would give a fellow a awful wunner, Ant’ny,” he said; “but it would be heavy, and all them pikes and things ain’t necessary. A good truncheon properly handled can’t be beat.”
Old furniture, tapestry, and the like had their share of attention, but Revitts hurried me on when I stopped before some of the pictures, shaking his head and nudging me.
“I wonder at you, Ant’ny,” he whispered.
His face was scarlet, and he had not recovered his composure when we reached another room, where a series of portraits made me refer to my guide.
“Ladies of Charles the Second’s Court,” I said, “painted by Sir Peter Lely.”
“Then he ought to have been ashamed of himself,” said Revitts sharply; and drawing Mary’s arm through his, he hurried me off, evidently highly disapproving of the style of bodice then in vogue.