Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Short stories, English
I looked at Smugg. He had shrunk down low in his seat, and rested his
head on his hand. His face was half hidden; but he was very warm, and
the drops trickled from his forehead down his nose.
"It seems to be a good deal off," said the chairman judicially.
"No offense," said Joe; "but I don't take it kind of you, gentlemen.
I've served you faithful."
"The chops are excellent," conceded the chairman.
"And I don't take it kind."
"Develop your complaint," said the chairman. "I mean, what's the row,
Joe?"
"Since you gentlemen came she's been saucy," said Joe.
"I do not see," observed the chairman, "that anything can be done. If
Pyrrha prefers us, Joe [he treated the case collectively, which was
certainly wise], what then?"
"Beg pardon, sir?"
"Oh, I mean if the lady prefers us, Joe?"
Joe brought his fat fist down on the table with a thump.
"It aint as if you meant it," said he doggedly; "you just unsettles of
'er. I s'pose I can't help ye talking, and laughing, and walking along
of 'er, but you aint no call to kiss 'er."
Another pause ensued. The chairman held a consultation with Tritton,
who sat on his right hand.
"The meeting," said Gayford, "will proceed to declare, one by one,
whether it has ever--and if so, how often--kissed the lady. I will
begin. Never! Mr. Tritton?"
"Never!" said Tritton.
"Mr. Bird?"
"Never!" said Bird.
"Mr. Robertson?"
"Never!" said I.
"Mr. Smugg?"
"I seed 'im this very morning!" cried Joe, like an accusing angel.
Smugg took his hand away from his face, after giving his wet brow one
last dab. He looked at Gayford and at Joe, but said nothing.
"Mr. Smugg?" repeated the chairman.
"Mr. Smugg," interposed Tritton suavely, "probably feels himself in a
difficulty. The secret is not, perhaps, entirely his own."
We all nodded.
"We enter a plea of not guilty for Mr. Smugg," observed the chairman
gravely.
"I seed 'im do it," said Joe.
No one spoke. Joe finished his beer, pulled his forelock, and turned
on his heel. Suddenly Smugg burst into speech. He could hardly form
his words, and they jostled one another in the breathless confusion of
his utterance.
"I--I--you've no right. I say nothing. If I choose, I shall--no one
has a right to stop me. If I love her--if she doesn't mind--I say
nothing--nothing at all. I won't hear a word. I shall do as I like."
Joe had paused to hear him, and now stood looking at him in wonder.
Then he stepped quickly up to the table, and, leaning across, asked in
a harsh voice:
"You mean honest, do you, by her? You'd make her your wife, would you?"
Smugg, looking straight in front of him, answered:
"Yes."
Joe drew back, touched his forelock again, and said:
"Then it's fair fighting, sir, begging your pardon; and no offense.
But the girl was mine first, sir."
Then Gayford interposed.
"Mr. Smugg," said he, "you tell Joe, here, that you'd marry this lady.
May I ask how you can--when----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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