If it were possible for Mr. Rodney's long and sallow face to become more astounded than it had been during the progress of this conversation, it became so at the mention of this name.
"Jacob Minnidick!" he repeated in tones of flagrant amazement. "Jacob Minnidick!"
The name really laid him low, like a blow from the shoulder. He had never heard one like it before, and it seemed to take him straight into a different and dreadful world.
"Yes. Isn't it a pretty name? I am very much interested in Mr. Bush. It is he who has made me wish to give up society."
In her excitement Mrs. Verulam had spoken incautiously. She had hardly meant to go so far so soon. Mr. Rodney's veins suddenly swelled. His mouth opened, and he looked as if he were going to have some dreadful fit. He clenched his hands, and seemed to struggle for air. Mrs. Verulam was really terrified.
"Oh, Mr. Rodney, Mr. Rodney! what is it? what is it?" she exclaimed.
Mr. Rodney put up one long hand to his high collar, intruded a couple of fingers within its circle, and pulled it outwards, at the same time screwing his head rapidly from side to side. Mrs. Verulam was about to rush to the bell in terror when, with a convulsive effort, he collected himself.
"Please don't," he said.
Mrs. Verulam didn't, but she was still very much alarmed.