'Come in,' cried Mr. Gamble, still exploding in comfortable little bursts of half-suppressed laughter.
'Oh! 'tis you? Very good, Sir,' said Mr. Gamble, sobering a little. He was the same lanky, vulgar, and slightly-squinting gentleman, pitted with the small-pox, whom Toole had seen on a former occasion. And the little doctor thought he looked even more cunning and meaner than before. Everything had grown to look repulsive, and every face was sinister now; and the world began to look like a horrible masquerade, full of half-detected murderers, traitors, and miscreants.
'There isn't a soul you can trust—'tis enough to turn a man's head; 'tis sickening, by George!' grumbled the little doctor, fiercely.
'Here's a gentleman, Sir,' said Gamble, waving his pen towards Toole, with a chuckle, 'who believes that ladies like to recover their husbands.'
The fellow grew red, and grinned a sly uneasy grin, looking stealthily at Toole, who was rapidly growing angry.
'Yes, Sir, and one who believes, too, that gentlemen ought to protect their wives,' added the little doctor hotly.
'As soon as they know who they are,' muttered the attorney to his papers.
'I think, gentlemen, I'm rather in your way,' said Toole with a gloomy briskness; 'I think 'tis better I should go. I—I'm somewhat amazed, gentlemen, and I—I wish you a good-morning.'
And Toole made them a very stern bow, and walked out at the wrong door.
'This way, by your leave, doctor,' said Mr. Gamble, opening the right one; and at the head of the stairs he took Toole by the cuff, and said he—