What Will He Do with It? — Volume 06Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
What Will He Do with It? — Volume 06
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
nurture to the rank of gentleman, as you would had you seen the gay
spendthrift in his gaudy day. For then he seemed below, and now he
seemed above, the grade in which he took place. And all this made his
aspect yet more sinister, and the impression that he was dangerous yet
more profound. Muscular strength often remains to a powerful frame long
after the constitution is undermined, and Jasper Losely's frame was still
that of a formidable athlete; nay, its strength was yet more apparent now
that the shoulders and limbs had increased in bulk than when it was half-
disguised in the lissome symmetry of exquisite proportion,--less active,
less supple, less capable of endurance, but with more crushing weight in
its rush or its blow. It was the figure in which brute force seems so to
predominate that in a savage state it would have worn a crown,--the
figure which secures command and authority in all societies where force
alone gives the law. Thus, under the gaslight and under the stars, stood
the terrible animal,--a strong man imbruted; SOUVIENS-TOI DE TA
GABRIELLE." There, still uneffaced, though the gold threads are all
tarnished and ragged, are the ominous words on the silk of the she-
devil's love-token! But Jasper has now inspected the direction on the
paper he held to the lamp-light, and, satisfying himself that he was in
the right quarter, restored the paper to the bulky distended pocket-book
and walked sullenly on towards the court from which had emerged the
policeman who had crossed his prowling chase.
"It is the most infernal shame," said Losely between his grinded teeth,
"that I should be driven to these wretched dens for a lodging, while that
man, who ought to feel bound to maintain me, should be rolling in wealth,
and cottoned up in a palace. But he shall fork out. Sophy must be
hunted up. I will clothe her in rags like these. She shall sit at his
street-door. I will shame the miserly hunks. But how track the girl?
Have I no other hold over him? Can I send Dolly Poole to him? How
addled my brains are!--want of food, want of sleep. Is this the place?
Peuh!--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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