You'd better go, sir, on my word, or if she's dead before morning, don't say it's my fault." "Did you ever hear a poor old man so tyrannised over ?" said Heale, as Tom coolly went into the passage, brought in the old man's great coat and hat, arrayed him and marched him out, civilly, but firmly.
"Now, Lieutenant, I've half an hour to spare; let's have a jolly chat about the West Indies." And Tom began with anecdote and joke, and the old seaman laughed till he cried, and went to bed vowing that there never was such a pleasant fellow on earth, and he ought to be physician to Queen Victoria.
Up at five the next morning, the indefatigable Tom had all his work done by ten; and was preparing to start for Pentremochyn, ere Heale was out of bed, when a customer came in who kept him half an hour.
He was a tall broad-shouldered young man, with a red face, protruding bull's eyes, and a moustachio.

He was dressed in a complete suit of pink and white plaid, cut jauntily enough.

A bright blue cap, a thick gold watch-chain, three or four large rings, a dog-whistle from his button-hole, a fancy cane in his hand, and a little Oxford meerschaum in his mouth, completed his equipment.

He lounged in, with an air of careless superiority, while Tom, who was behind the counter, cutting up his day's provision of honey-dew, eyed him curiously.
"Who are you, now?
A gentleman?
Not quite, I guess.

Some squireen of the parts adjacent, and look in somewhat of a crapulocomatose state moreover.