He may go to his bookshelves
and count his books, ranging them in order of their size; or to his wardrobe
and count his shirts, laying them in piles of two or three on the bed, as they
suffer from frayed cuffs or lost buttons.
Even this entertainment wearies after a time; and all the times are very, very
long.
Dick was allowed to sort a tool-chest where Mr. Beeton kept hammers, taps and
nuts, lengths of gas-pipes, oil-bottles, and string.
"If I don't have everything just where I know where to look for it, why, then,
I can't find anything when I do want it. You've no idea, sir, the amount of
little things that these chambers uses up," said Mr. Beeton.
Fumbling at the handle of the door as he went out: "It's hard on you, sir, I do
think it's hard on you. Ain't you going to do anything, sir?"
"I'll pay my rent and messing. Isn't that enough?"
"I wasn't doubting for a moment that you couldn't pay your way, sir; but I 'ave
often said to my wife, 'It's 'ard on 'im because it isn't as if he was an old
man, nor yet a middle-aged one, but quite a young gentleman. That's where it
comes so 'ard.'"
"I suppose so," said Dick, absently. This particular nerve through long
battering had ceased to feel--much.
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