Oh, I'm not jealous. He's welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany, in her
old age, if he likes. Did you say that, sir? Did you say that Lord
Harry, or any man, was welcome to love Mrs. Vimpany? I have a great
mind to throw this bottle at your head. No, I won't; it's wasting good
wine! How kind of you to give me good wine. Who are you? I don't like
dining with a stranger. Do you know any friend of mine? Do you know a
man named Mountjoy? Do you know two men named Mountjoy? No: you don't.
One of them is dead: killed by those murdering scoundrels what do you
call them? Eh, what?" The doctor's voice began to falter, his head
dropped; he slumbered suddenly and woke suddenly, and began talking
again suddenly. "Would you like to be made acquainted with Lord Harry?
I'll give you a sketch of his character before I introduce him. Between
ourselves, he's a desperate wretch. Do you know why he employed my
wife, my admirable wife? You will agree with me; he ought to have
looked after his young woman himself. We've got his young woman safe in
our house. A nice girl. Not my style; my medical knowledge certifies
she's cold-blooded. Lord Harry has only to come over here and find her.
Why the devil doesn't he come? What is it keeps him in Ireland? Do you
know? I seem to have forgotten.
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