rather shabby at the edges, caused the prejudicial inference that he was not able to afford himself as much indulgence as he liked.
"Who is it you've picked up, Bam?" said Mr Horrock, aside.
"Ask him yourself," returned Mr Bambridge. "He said he'd just turned in from the road."
Mr Horrock eyed the stranger, who was leaning back against his stick with one hand, using his toothpick with the other, and looking about him with a certain restlessness apparently under the silence imposed on him by circumstances.
At length the Supper at Emmaus was brought forward, to Wills immense relief, for he was getting so tired of the proceedings that he had drawn back a little and leaned his shoulder against the wall just behind the auctioneer. He now came forward again, and his eye caught the conspicuous stranger, who, rather to his surprise, was staring at him markedly. But Will was immediately appealed to by Mr Trumbull.
"Yes, Mr Ladislaw, yes; this interests you as a connoissure, I think. It is some pleasure," the auctioneer went on with a rising fervour, "to have a picture like this to show to a company of ladies and gentlemen—a picture worth any sum to an individual whose means were on a level with his
