"Then why the dickens do you want it to get about? Surely the best
thing you can do is to dry up and say nothing about it."

"But something ought to be done."

"What's the good of troubling about a man like Sheen? He never was any
good, and this doesn't make him very much worse. Besides, he'll
probably be sick enough on his own account. I know I should, if I'd
done it. And, anyway, we don't know that he did do it."

"I'm certain he did. I could swear it was him."

"Anyhow, for goodness' sake let the thing drop."

"All right. But I shall cut him."

"Well, that would be punishment enough for anybody, whatever he'd done.
Fancy existence without your bright conversation. It doesn't bear
thinking of. You do look a freak with that eye and that lump on your
forehead. You ought to wear a mask."

"That ear of yours," said Linton with satisfaction, "will be about
three times its ordinary size tomorrow. And it always was too large.
Good night."

On his way back to Seymour's Mason of Appleby's, who was standing at
his house gate imbibing fresh air, preparatory to going to bed,
accosted him.