When I had made an end of my lecture, Mr. Dammit indulged himself in
some very equivocal behavior. For some moments he remained silent,
merely looking me inquisitively in the face. But presently he threw
his head to one side, and elevated his eyebrows to a great extent.
Then he spread out the palms of his hands and shrugged up his
shoulders. Then he winked with the right eye. Then he repeated the
operation with the left. Then he shut them both up very tight. Then he
opened them both so very wide that I became seriously alarmed for
the consequences. Then, applying his thumb to his nose, he thought
proper to make an indescribable movement with the rest of his fingers.
Finally, setting his arms a-kimbo, he condescended to reply.
I can call to mind only the beads of his discourse. He would be
obliged to me if I would hold my tongue. He wished none of my
advice. He despised all my insinuations. He was old enough to take
care of himself. Did I still think him baby Dammit? Did I mean to
say any thing against his character? Did I intend to insult him? Was I
a fool? Was my maternal parent aware, in a word, of my absence from
the domiciliary residence? He would put this latter question to me
as to a man of veracity, and he would bind himself to abide by my
reply.
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