CAPTAIN FITZCHROME. Then you seem to have found what you wished.
Chance has thrown in your way what none of the gods would have
ventured to promise you.
MR. CHAINMAIL. Yes, but I know nothing of her birth and parentage.
She tells me nothing of herself, and I have no right to question
her directly.
CAPTAIN FITZCHROME. She appears to be expressly destined for the
light of your baronial hall. Introduce me in this case, two heads
are better than one.
MR. CHAINMAIL. No, I thank you. Leave me to manage my chance of a
prize, and keep you to your own chance of a -
CAPTAIN FITZCHROME. Blank. As you please. Well, I will pitch my
tent here, till I have filled my portfolio, and shall be glad of as
much of your company as you can spare from more attractive society.
Matters went on pretty smoothly for several days, when an unlucky
newspaper threw all into confusion. Mr. Chainmail received
newspapers by the post, which came in three times a week. One
morning, over their half-finished breakfast, the Captain had read
half a newspaper very complacently, when suddenly he started up in
a frenzy, hurled over the breakfast table, and, bouncing from the
apartment, knocked down Harry Ap Heather, who was coming in at the
door to challenge his supposed rival to a boxing-match.
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