“Well, I want one, and I’ll pay well for it if it’s of the right sort. It must be at least six-foot two, thin about the jaws, with lanky black hair, and a yellow complexion.”
Ned smiled facetiously, but at the same time shook his head.
“Six f’t two,” said he, “an’t a common height; it won’t be easy to get ’un so tall; but—but,” he pondered here with a grave expression of countenance, “but it might be stretched a bit, you know—eh? As to thin jaws, most of ’em is thin about sh’ jaws, an’ black hair ain’t un—uncommon.”
Ned yawned at this point, and looked very sleepy.
“Well, you’ll speak to him, won’t you, and I’ll make it worth while for both of you?”
“Oh yesh, I’ll shpeak to him,” said Ned, as his head fell on the table and his senses utterly forsook him.
“Bah! you beast,” muttered Gorman, casting a glance of scorn on his friend as he rose to leave. He had the sense, before going, to extinguish the candle, lest Ned should overturn it and set the house on fire; not that he cared either for Ned or the house, but as the former happened to be necessary to him just then, he did not wish him to be burned too soon. Then he went out, closing the door softly after him.
Half an hour afterwards Ned’s friend and fellow-lodger, John Barret, entered the room, accompanied by Fred Auberly.
“Come, Fred,” said the former, “we can chat here without interr— hallo—”
“What’s wrong?” inquired Fred, endeavouring to make out objects by the feeble flicker of the fire, while his friend struck a light.