Taking him by the collar of his coat, I conducted him through the doorway, across the hall, and into the front room—where Mr. and Mrs. Morley were still clinging to each other, as if under the impression that the end of the world at last had come. The visitor was a big, black-haired man, inclined to puffiness, whose whiskers and moustache seemed to have been blackleaded, they shone with such resplendence. He was clad in gorgeous attire.
"What do you mean by such disgraceful behaviour?" I inquired.
"On my word, that's good!" He was settling in its place the collar of his coat. "Seems to me that the boot's upon the other foot." He turned to Mr. Morley. "Who is this man?"
"This man," I explained, to save Mr. Morley trouble, "is a person who is competent to resent any impertinence which you may offer. So, if you have come to play the bully, you will have every opportunity afforded you to play your very best"
"Don't talk to me like that, sir, you don't know who I am. If I'd liked I might have made Philip Lawrence bankrupt four and twenty hours ago; only I thought I'd give him a chance. But I'm not going to stand that sort of thing from you."
"Pray how could you have made Mr. Philip Lawrence bankrupt?"
