The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 197: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

180 REYNOLDS’ WORKS It was into the conference room above described that Madge Somers and Chiffin the Cannibal ascended, the former having obtained a candle from the old landlady. “ Well,” said Chiffin, as he took a seat upon a rude stool, “I suppose you have brought me my blunt, according to promise? I have been thinking a good deal over that adventure of last night — ”’ “Then I beg you will not think any more of it,’’ inter- rupted Madge peremptorily. ‘‘ An agreement is an agree- ment; the business of last night has ceased to be your affair altogether, and is now mine, so I will thank you not to interfere in my concerns, 1f you wish us to continue good friends.”’ The Cannibal was about to give some surly reply, when Madge, thrusting her hand into her pocket, drew forth a quantity of sovereigns, which she placed upon the table. The sight of the gold at once made the horrible countenance of the rufhan clear up, — that is to say, it cleared up as much as the murky gloom of a thunder-cloud can.be said to brighten when the sun shines forth from another part of the heaven upon it. ‘Here are your hundred pounds,” said Madge, ‘“‘ and now be contented.”’ “Well, the look of this precious metal, as romance writers call it,” said Chiffin, “is enough to soften a fellow’s heart,” and while he thus spoke he began to finger the gold pieces, counting them over, first of all, to see that they were right, and then weighing them in his hand. “ You have kept your promise, Madge,’ he continued, as he secured the money about his person, “‘ and I have nothing more to say, unless it is to offer to stand a bowl of punch down-stairs if you will come and partake of it.” But ere the woman had time to give the negative answer which she was about to return, the door opened, and Lady Bess sauntered with graceful ease into the room. She was apparelled exactly in the same manner as when we previously described her, her fine person being admirably set off by the close-fitting frock coat, the well-made pantaloons, and all the other accessories of her masculine garb. For a moment her magnificent large eyes, with so bright a lustre shining in their black depths, were flung scrutinizingly upon Madge Somers and the Cannibal, as if to penetrate their Gomicbooks