England -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Male friendship -- Fiction; Men -- Societies and clubs -- Fiction
‘And--and that person, too, if I am not mistaken,’ said the doctor,
bestowing a scrutinising glance on the green-coated stranger. ‘I think I
gave that person a very pressing invitation last night, which he thought
proper to decline.’ Saying which the doctor scowled magnanimously on the
stranger, and whispered his friend Lieutenant Tappleton.
‘You don’t say so,’ said that gentleman, at the conclusion of the
whisper.
‘I do, indeed,’ replied Doctor Slammer.
‘You are bound to kick him on the spot,’ murmured the owner of the camp-
stool, with great importance.
‘Do be quiet, Payne,’ interposed the lieutenant. ‘Will you allow me to
ask you, sir,’ he said, addressing Mr. Pickwick, who was considerably
mystified by this very unpolite by-play--‘will you allow me to ask you,
Sir, whether that person belongs to your party?’
‘No, Sir,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, ‘he is a guest of ours.’
‘He is a member of your club, or I am mistaken?’ said the lieutenant
inquiringly.
‘Certainly not,’ responded Mr. Pickwick.
‘And never wears your club-button?’ said the lieutenant.
‘No--never!’ replied the astonished Mr. Pickwick.
Lieutenant Tappleton turned round to his friend Doctor Slammer, with a
scarcely perceptible shrug of the shoulder, as if implying some doubt of
the accuracy of his recollection. The little doctor looked wrathful, but
confounded; and Mr. Payne gazed with a ferocious aspect on the beaming
countenance of the unconscious Pickwick.
‘Sir,’ said the doctor, suddenly addressing Mr. Tupman, in a tone which
made that gentleman start as perceptibly as if a pin had been cunningly
inserted in the calf of his leg, ‘you were at the ball here last night!’
Mr. Tupman gasped a faint affirmative, looking very hard at Mr. Pickwick
all the while.
‘That person was your companion,’ said the doctor, pointing to the still
unmoved stranger.
Mr. Tupman admitted the fact.
‘Now, sir,’ said the doctor to the stranger, ‘I ask you once again, in
the presence of these gentlemen, whether you choose to give me your
card, and to receive the treatment of a gentleman; or whether you impose
upon me the necessity of personally chastising you on the spot?’
‘Stay, sir,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘I really cannot allow this matter to go
any further without some explanation. Tupman, recount the
circumstances.’
Mr. Tupman, thus solemnly adjured, stated the case in a few words;
touched slightly on the borrowing of the coat; expatiated largely on its
having been done ‘after dinner’; wound up with a little penitence on his
own account; and left the stranger to clear himself as best he could.
He was apparently about to proceed to do so, when Lieutenant Tappleton,
who had been eyeing him with great curiosity, said with considerable
scorn, ‘Haven’t I seen you at the theatre, Sir?’
‘Certainly,’ replied the unabashed stranger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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