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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"

He stood, now, very upright, with
folded arms, and looking inscrutably at the roof of the apartment.
I could not refuse him at that moment the tribute of my admiration.
Still more so when, the last of the domestics having filed through
the doorway and left us alone with my great-uncle and the lawyer,
he took one step forward towards the bed, made a dignified
reverence, and addressed the man who had just condemned him to
ruin.
'My lord,' said he, 'you are pleased to treat me in a manner which
my gratitude, and your state, equally forbid me to call in
question. It will be only necessary for me to call your attention
to the length of time in which I have been taught to regard myself
as your heir. In that position, I judged it only loyal to permit
myself a certain scale of expenditure. If I am now to be cut off
with a shilling as the reward of twenty years of service, I shall
be left not only a beggar, but a bankrupt.'
Whether from the fatigue of his recent exertion, or by a well-
inspired ingenuity of hate, my uncle had once more closed his eyes;
nor did he open them now. 'Not with a shilling,' he contented
himself with replying; and there stole, as he said it, a sort of
smile over his face, that flickered there conspicuously for the
least moment of time, and then faded and left behind the old
impenetrable mask of years, cunning, and fatigue.


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