Page 577 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

‘Here, Mr. Richard.’
‘Have some! Good brandy! Send for servantsh and have
dance. D’you dance, Tomkins?’
‘No, Mr. Richard.’
‘Then you shall dance now, Tomkins. You’ll dance upon
nothing one day, Tomkins! Here! Halloo! Mary! Susan!
Janet! William! Hey! Halloo!’ And he began to shout and
blaspheme.
‘Don’t you think it’s time for bed, Mr. Richard?’ one of
the men ventured to suggest.
‘No!’ roared the ex-convict, emphatically, ‘I don’t! I’ve
gone to bed at daylight far too long. We’ll have ‘luminashon!
I’m master here. Master everything. Richard ‘Vine’s my
name. Isn’t it, Tomkins, you villain?’
‘Oh-h-h! Yes, Mr. Richard.’
‘Course it is, and make you know it too! I’m no paint-
er-picture, crockery chap. I’m genelman! Genelman seen
the world! Knows what’s what. There ain’t much I ain’t fly
to. Wait till the old woman’s dead, Tomkins, and you shall
see!’ More swearing, and awful threats of what the inebri-
ate would do when he was in possession. ‘Bring up some
brandy!’ Crash goes the bottle in the fire-place. ‘Light up
the droring-rooms; we’ll have dance! I’m drunk! What’s
that? If you’d gone through what I have, you’d be glad to be
drunk. I look a fool’—this to his image in another glass. ‘I
ain’t though, or I wouldn’t be here. Curse you, you grinning
idiot’— crash goes his fist through the mirror—‘don’t grin
at me. Play up there! Where’s old woman? Fetch her out and
let’s dance!’

For the Term of His Natural Life