Why did the footman grin? I perceived, as I entered. A mirror fronted me. My face was like a Sioux’s in his war-paint. There had been flies in Padiham’s shop, and I had brushed them away from my face, alas! with hands blackened over the lathe.
All looked up amazed at this truculent intruder. It was,—
“Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.”
“Forbear, and eat no more!”
An injunction not necessary for poor Brent, who sat dreary and listless.
The rest forbore at my apparition. Egg-spoon paused at egg’s mouth. Sugar sank to the floor of coffee-cup. Toast silenced its crackle.
Brent recognized me in the grimy pirate before him.
He sprang to his feet. “You have found her!” cried he.
“Yes.”
He looked at me eagerly.