The woman had somehow put me in such a passion that I bounced off the sofa, and made for the balcony without answering a word,--ay, and half broke my head against the sash, too, as I went out to the gents in the open air. "Gus," says I, "I feel very unwell: I wish you'd come home with me." And Gus did not desire anything better; for he had ogled the last girl out of the last church, and the night was beginning to fall. "What! already?" said Mrs. Roundhand; "there is a lobster coming up,--a trifling refreshment; not what he's accustomed to, but--" I am sorry to say I nearly said, "D--- the lobster!" as Roundhand went and whispered to her that I was ill. "Ay," said Gus, looking very knowing. "Recollect, Mrs. R., that he was _at the West End_ on Thursday, asked to dine, ma'am, with the tip-top nobs. Chaps don't dine at the West End for nothing, do they, R.? If you play at _bowls_, you know--" "You must look out for _rubbers_," said Roundhand, as quick as thought. "Not in my house of a Sunday," said Mrs. R., looking very fierce and angry. "Not a card shall be touched here. Are we in a Protestant land, sir? in a Christian country?" "My dear, you don't understand. We were not talking of rubbers of whist." "There shall be _no_ game at all in the house of a Sabbath eve," said Mrs. Roundhand; and out she flounced from the room, without ever so much as wishing us good-night. "Do stay," said the husband, looking very much frightened,--"do stay. She won't come back while you're here; and I do wish you'd stay so." But we wouldn't: and when we reached Salisbury Square, I gave Gus a lecture about spending his Sundays idly; and read out one of Blair's sermons before we went to bed. As I turned over in bed, I could not help thinking about the luck the pin had brought me; and it was not over yet, as you will see in the next chapter. CHAPTER V HOW THE DIAMOND INTRODUCES HIM TO A STILL MORE FASHIONABLE PLACE To tell the truth, though, about the pin, although I mentioned it almost the last thing in the previous chapter, I assure you it was by no means the last thing in my thoughts. It had come home from Mr. Polonius's, as I said, on Saturday night; and Gus and I happened to be out enjoying ourselves, half-price, at Sadler's Wells; and perhaps we took a little refreshment on our way back: but that has nothing to do with my story. On the table, however, was the little box from the jeweller's; and when I took it out,--_my_, how the diamond did twinkle and glitter by the light of our one candle! "I'm sure it would light up the room of itself," says Gus. "I've read they do in--in history." It was in the history of Cogia Hassan Alhabbal, in the "Arabian Nights," as I knew very well. But we put the candle out, nevertheless, to try.