Here will we stay, till morning
blushes. Good night, Marchioness!'
CHAPTER 66
On awaking in the morning, Richard Swiveller became conscious, by
slow degrees, of whispering voices in his room. Looking out
between the curtains, he espied Mr Garland, Mr Abel, the notary,
and the single gentleman, gathered round the Marchioness, and
talking to her with great earnestness but in very subdued tones--
fearing, no doubt, to disturb him. He lost no time in letting them
know that this precaution was unnecessary, and all four gentlemen
directly approached his bedside. Old Mr Garland was the first to
stretch out his hand, and inquire how he felt.
Dick was about to answer that he felt much better, though still as
weak as need be, when his little nurse, pushing the visitors aside
and pressing up to his pillow as if in jealousy of their
interference, set his breakfast before him, and insisted on his
taking it before he underwent the fatigue of speaking or of being
spoken to. Mr Swiveller, who was perfectly ravenous, and had had,
all night, amazingly distinct and consistent dreams of mutton
chops, double stout, and similar delicacies, felt even the weak tea
and dry toast such irresistible temptations, that he consented to
eat and drink on one condition.
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