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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The Moonstone"

But the slyness
with which he slipped in that last question put me on my guard. In plain
English, I didn't at all relish the notion of helping his inquiries,
when those inquiries took him (in the capacity of snake in the grass)
among my fellow-servants.
"I noticed nothing," I said, "except that we all lost our heads
together, myself included."
"Oh," says the Sergeant, "that's all you have to tell me, is it?"
I answered, with (as I flattered myself) an unmoved countenance, "That
is all."
Sergeant Cuff's dismal eyes looked me hard in the face.
"Mr. Betteredge," he said, "have you any objection to oblige me by
shaking hands? I have taken an extraordinary liking to you."
(Why he should have chosen the exact moment when I was deceiving him to
give me that proof of his good opinion, is beyond all comprehension! I
felt a little proud--I really did feel a little proud of having been one
too many at last for the celebrated Cuff!)
We went back to the house; the Sergeant requesting that I would give him
a room to himself, and then send in the servants (the indoor servants
only), one after another, in the order of their rank, from first to
last.


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