Notwithstanding the highly satisfactory nature of all these
arrangements, there was a cloud on the countenance of Mr. Bob
Sawyer, as he sat by the fireside. There was a sympathising
expression, too, in the features of Mr. Ben Allen, as he gazed
intently on the coals, and a tone of melancholy in his voice, as he
said, after a long silence--
'Well, it is unlucky she should have taken it in her head to turn
sour, just on this occasion. She might at least have waited
till to-morrow.'
'That's her malevolence--that's her malevolence,' returned
Mr. Bob Sawyer vehemently. 'She says that if I can afford to give
a party I ought to be able to pay her confounded "little bill."'
'How long has it been running?' inquired Mr. Ben Allen. A
bill, by the bye, is the most extraordinary locomotive engine that
the genius of man ever produced. It would keep on running
during the longest lifetime, without ever once stopping of its
own accord.
'Only a quarter, and a month or so,' replied Mr. Bob Sawyer.
Ben Allen coughed hopelessly, and directed a searching look
between the two top bars of the stove.
'It'll be a deuced unpleasant thing if she takes it into her head
to let out, when those fellows are here, won't it?' said Mr.
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