Malthus. "I have hem graciously spared, but I must go
at last. Now he never plays. He shuffles and deals for the club,
and makes the necessary arrangements. That man, my dear Mr.
Hammersmith, is the very soul of ingenuity. For three years he has
pursued in London his useful and, I think I may add, his artistic
calling; and not so much as a whisper of suspicion has been once
aroused. I believe him myself to be inspired. You doubtless
remember the celebrated case, six months ago, of the gentleman who
was accidentally poisoned in a chemists shop? That was one of the
least rich, one of the least racy, of his notions; but then, how
simple! and how safe!"
"You astound me," said the Colonel. "Was that unfortunate
gentleman one of the - " He was about to say "victims"; but
bethinking himself in time, he substituted - "members of the club?"
In the same flash of thought, it occurred to him that Mr. Malthus
himself had not at all spoken in the tone of one who is in love
with death; and he added hurriedly:
"But I perceive I am still in the dark. You speak of shuffling and
dealing; pray for what end? And since you seem rather unwilling to
die than otherwise, I must own that I cannot conceive what brings
you here at all."
"You say truly that you are in the dark," replied Mr. Malthus with
more animation. "Why, my dear sir, this club is the temple of
intoxication.
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