She faltered and stammered in describing him and what she heard of
him; she smiled, I grieve to say, for this unfortunate lady cannot help
having a sense of humour; and we could not help laughing outright
sometimes at the idea of that discomfited wretch, that overbearing
creature overborne in his turn--which laughter Mrs. Laura used to chide
as very naughty and unfeeling. When we went into Newcome the landlord of
the King's Arms looked knowing and quizzical: Tom Potts grinned at me and
rubbed his hands. "This business serves the paper better than Mr.
Warrington's articles," says Mr. Potts. "We have sold no end of
Independents; and if you polled the whole borough, I bet that five to one
would say Sir Screwcome Screwcome was served right. By the way, what's up
about the Marquis of Farintosh, Mr. Pendennis? He arrived at the Arms
last night; went over to the Park this morning, and is gone back to town
by the afternoon train."
What had happened between the Marquis of Farintosh and Miss Newcome I am
enabled to know from the report of Miss Newcome's confidante.
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