that able fist, and retired, or, to be exact, skipped half-way down the first flight of stairs.
There he stopped, and glaring up at the majestic presence above him, cried, "Hi'm a hofficer of the lor. Hi'm servin' a writ on this 'ere Mr. Ruffin." And he brandished a blue document at Mr. Gedge-Tomkins.
"Serve it! But you be as quiet as a mouse about it or I'll push it down your throat!" bellowed Mr. Gedge-Tomkins; and he went back into his chambers with a fine, majestic air, and slammed the door.
The besieger wiped his brow with a dirty blue pocket-handkerchief, then stole gingerly up the stairs, and leaning against the banisters, resumed his watch, panting softly. His morning nerves, of the kind which so frequently accompany a red nose, were all to pieces. He was shaken to the depths of his being.
Pollyooly cooked Mr. Gedge-Tomkins' breakfast with uncommon care—she had suddenly begun to respect him.
Hitherto she had rather despised him. His refusal, on hearing of the death of her Aunt Hannah,
