He was generally most at ease among the children; he saw some of them,
and Swan holding forth to them in his most pragmatical style. Swan was
dressed in his best suit, but he had a spade in his hand. Valentine
joined them, and threw himself on a seat close by. He meant to take the
first opportunity he could find for having a talk with Swan, but while
he waited he lost himself again, and appeared to see what went on as if
it was a shifting dream that meant nothing; his eyes were upon, the
children, and his ears received expostulation and entreaty: at last his
name roused him.
"And what Mr. Melcombe will think on you it's clean past my wits to find
out. Dressed up so beautiful, all in your velvets and things, and
buckles in your shoes, and going to see your pa married, and won't be
satisfied unless I'll dig out this here nasty speckled beast of a
snake."
"But you're so unfair," exclaimed Bertram. "We told you if you'd let us
conjure it, there would be no snake."
"What's it all about?" said Valentine, rousing himself and remarking
some little forked sticks held by the boys.
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