The red sun went down--a fierce and lurid face that seemed to scowl
through the grey--and Mr. Hammond felt that it was time to arouse
himself from gloomy meditation and go in and dress for dinner.
Maulevrier's valet was to arrive by the coach with the heavier part of
the luggage, and Maulevrier's valet did that very small portion of
valeting which was ever required by Mr. Hammond. A man who has worked at
a forge in the backwoods is not likely to be finicking in his ways, or
dependent upon servants for looking after his raiment.
Despite Mr. Hammond's gloomy memories of past joys and disillusions, he
contrived to make himself very agreeable, by-and-by, at dinner, and in
the drawing-room after dinner, and the evening was altogether gay and
sprightly. Maulevrier was in high spirits, full of his Parisian
experiences, and talking slang as glibly as a student of the Quartier
Latin. He would talk nothing but French, protesting that he had almost
forgotten his native tongue, and his French was the language of
Larchey's Dictionary of Argot, in which nothing is called by its right
name.
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