Justice dans le Par-Chemins, un Conte de vie

F. Colburn (Francis Colburn) Adams

Chapter 41

the suddenness with which Lady Swiggs, as she delights in having her
friends call her, transposes herself from the incarnation of a viper
into a creature of gentleness, on hearing announced the name of Mr.
Soloman Snivel.

What!--my old friend! I wish I had words to say how glad I am to see
you, Lady Swiggs!" exclaims a tall, well-proportioned and
handsome-limbed man, to whose figure a fashionable claret-colored
frock coat, white vest, neatly-fitting dark-brown trowsers,
highly-polished boots, a cluster of diamonds set in an avalanche of
corded shirt-bosom, and carelessly-tied green cravat, lend a
respectability better imagined than described. A certain reckless
dash about him, not common to a refined gentleman, forces us to set
him down as one of those individuals who hold an uncertain position
in society; and though they may now and then mingle with men of
refinement, have their more legitimate sphere in a fashionable world
of doubtful character.

"Why!--Mr. Snivel. Is it you?" responds the old woman, reciprocating
his warm shake of the hand, and getting her hard face into a smile.

"I am so glad-But (Mr. Snivel interrupts himself) never mind that!"

"You have some important news?" hastily inquires Mrs. Swiggs, laying
a bit of muslin carefully between the pages of her Milton, and
returning it to the table, saying she has just been grievously
provoked by one of that black-coated flock who go about the city in
search of lambs. They always remind her of light-houses pointing the
road to the dominions of the gentleman in black.

"Something very important!" parenthesises Soloman--"very." And he
shakes his head, touches her significantly on the arm with his
orange-colored glove,--he smiles insidiously.

"Pray be seated, Mr. Snivel. Rebecca!--bring Mr. Snivel the
rocking-chair."

"You see, my good Madam, there's such a rumor about town this
morning! (Soloman again taps her on the arm with his glove.) The cat
has got out of the bag-it's all up with the St. Cecilia!--"

"Do, Rebecca, make haste with the rocking-chair!" eagerly interrupts
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