which had been dashed by Mr. Bubbleby's rude remark. Their dry champagne sang consolatory anthems in my head; but, as I passed through the machinery department on my way to write an enthusiastic account of their conscientious labours, my way was suddenly barred by Mr. Cheetham, accompanied by several of his mechanical and engineering friends. His Lancashire accent was most unpleasantly strong as he cried: "Look here! This is the chap that comes swaggering about, pretending to be somebody, when he is nowt at all but a beggarly penny-a-liner!"
Much more did this northern barbarian say to the same effect; but he did not know that I had been lunching with a jovial jury, and was not in a mood to be trifled with. I took off my spectacles and replied with equal vigour of speech.
I would fain draw a veil over the sequel; but truth compels me to proceed. I lost my temper, and he revenged himself for all the lovely Clara had made him suffer. I am ignorant of the manly art of self-defence; while the brutal Cheetham was a scientific expert. One well-directed blow made all the stars in the firmament flash in my eyes; and a second, which flattened my nose on my face, felled me to the ground. His friends restrained my opponent from further violence. They picked me up and washed my disfigured countenance in the soapy water-trough of the adjacent Dipthong washing machine. They counselled the application of raw beefsteak, and saw me to my ticca-gharry, while the Lancashire Berserkir, though held back by his friends, showed a lively desire to repeat the dose.
À quelque chose malheur est bon. I had scarcely reached my quarters when a messenger arrived with a brief and stern note from Mr. Bubbleby demanding his papers. My eyes had black orbits, and my nose felt sad and strange, like somebody else's nose; but I had got rid of those detestable plans! In the evening I walked out to relieve an unaccountable stiffness in my limbs, taking an unfrequented road and musing on the evil chances that had befallen me. But other people had sought solitude; and I recognised the Bubbleby tonga. This time Mr. Cheetham sat by the faithless Clara's side and flourished his whip in triumph as they passed; while she smiled lovingly in his face. I bore up as bravely as I could; but a broken nose is as ineffectual a disguise for a wounded spirit as are gold spectacles for a pair of black eyes.
