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Brimberly took a cigar very much at random, and, while
Young R. watched with lazy interest, proceeded to cut it--though with
singularly clumsy fingers.
"A light, Mr. Brimberly--allow me!"
So Ravenslee held the light while Mr. Brimberly puffed his cigar to a
glow, though to be sure he coughed once and choked, as he met Young R.'s
calm grey eye.
"Now," pursued his master, "if you're quite comfortable, Mr. Brimberly,
perhaps you'll be good enough to--er--hearken further to my tale of
woe?"
Mr. Brimberly choked again and recovering, smoothed his writhing
whiskers and murmured: "It would be a honour!"
"First, then, Brimberly, have you ever hated yourself--I mean, despised
yourself so utterly and thoroughly that the bare idea of your existence
makes you angry and indignant?"
"Why--no, sir," answered Mr. Brimberly, staring, "I can't say as I 'ave,
sir."
"No," said his master with another keen glance, "and I don't suppose you
ever will!" Now here again, perhaps because of the look or something in
Young R.'s tone, Mr.


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