'A man cleanly shaven for the most part,
having the appearance of an opera-singer, and calling himself Signor
Smithozzi?'
'We have had arrivals lately,' said the landlord, in the tone of
having had twenty at least--not caring to acknowledge the attenuated
state of business that afflicted Prospect Hotel in winter.
'And among them can your memory recall two persons such as those I
describe?--the man a sort of baritone?'
'There certainly is or was a young couple staying in the hotel; but
I could not pronounce on the compass of the gentleman's voice.'
'No, no; of course not. I am quite bewildered. They arrived in a
basket-carriage, altogether badly provided?'
'They came in a carriage, I believe, as most of our visitors do.'
'Yes, yes. I must see them at once. Pardon my want of ceremony,
and show us in to where they are.'
'But, sir, you forget. Suppose the lady and gentleman I mean are
not the lady and gentleman you mean? It would be awkward to allow
you to rush in upon them just now while they are at dinner, and
might cause me to lose their future patronage.'
'True, true. They may not be the same persons. My anxiety, I
perceive, makes me rash in my assumptions!'
'Upon the whole, I think they must be the same, Uncle Quantock,'
said the young man, who had not till now spoken. And turning to the
landlord: 'You possibly have not such a large assemblage of
visitors here, on this somewhat forbidding evening, that you quite
forget how this couple arrived, and what the lady wore?' His tone
of addressing the landlord had in it a quiet frigidity that was not
without irony.
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