Of a Meeting near Fulham
“Oh well,” says I, “you were featured and figured for an Adonis. That’s your trade,” I says, “and I’ll warrant I could pin it to you an’ I poked a little closer.”
He smiled broadly, and then putting back his head went off into a gentle inward laugh very joyously.
“My friend,” says he, when he had come to himself, but still chuckling, “you strike home. In sooth I had resolved to keep the matter private, but, egad, there’s no deceiving your eyes,” and he blinked at me humorously.
But meeting his gaze I could not refrain on my part, and off I went into a peal. When I looked at him again he had took his reins in hand, but, leaning forward quickly, I seized the bridle at the mare’s mouth.
“Come, come,” says I, with an oath, “I will have you know, wheedler or applesquire, that you are not your own master while Dick Ryder is in need of you, and since you have sought my company, by God, but you shall keep it until I choose.”
A slight frown contracted his forehead, but
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