"Devilish nice, by Allah! I'm cold through and through my great coat. Will you please poke up that fire a little? Hey! what a grand bed we've got! what tassels and ropes! and, by Jove, carved angels or Cupids—I hope Cupids—on the foot-board!" he said, running the tip of his cane along the profile of one of them. "They must have got this a wonderful bargain. Hey! I hope no one died in it last week?"
"Oh, la! sir; Mr. Levi is a very pitickler gentleman; he wouldn't for all he's worth."
"Oh! not he, I know; very particular."
Mr. Dingwell was holding the piece of damask curtain between his finger and thumb, and she fancied was sniffing at it gently.
"Very particular, but I'm more so. We, English, are the dirtiest dogs in the world. They ought to get the Turks to teach 'em to wash and be clean. I travelled in the East once, for a commercial house, and know something of them. Can you make coffee?"
"Yes, sir, please."
"Very strong?"
"Yes, sir, sure."
"Very, mind. As strong as the devil it must be, and as clear as—as your conscience." He was getting out a tin case, as he spoke. "Here it is. I got it in—I forget the name—a great place, near one of your bridges. I suppose it's as good as any to be had in this place. Of course it isn't all coffee. We must go to the heathen for that; but if they haven't ground up toasted skeletons, or anything dirty in it, I'm content. I'm told you can't eat or drink a mouthful here without swallowing something you never bargained for. Everything is drugged. Look at our Caiquejees! You have no such men in your padded Horse-guards. And what do they live on? Why, a crust of brown bread and a melon, and now and then a dish of pilauf! But it's good—it's pure—it's what it calls itself. You d——d Christian cheats, you're an opprobrium to commerce and civilisation; you're the greatest oafs on earth, with all your police and spies. Why it's only to will it, and you don't; you let it go on. We are assuredly a beastly people!"
"Sugar, please, sir?"