"I have made up my mind to accept your very kind offer," she said,
shining on Mr. Damer with her blandest smile.
What was a stout, breathless, perspiring, middle-aged gentleman to do
under such circumstances? Mr. Damer was a man who, in most matters,
had his own way. That his wife should have given such an invitation
without consulting him, was, he knew, quite impossible. She would as
soon have thought of asking all those Arab guides to accompany them.
Nor was it to be thought of that he should allow himself to be
kidnapped into such an arrangement by the impudence of any Miss
Dawkins. But there was, he felt, a difficulty in answering such a
proposition from a young lady with a direct negative, especially while
he was so scant of breath. So he wiped his brow again, and looked at
her.
"But I can only agree to this on one understanding," continued Miss
Dawkins, "and that is, that I am allowed to defray my own full share of
the expense of the journey."
Upon hearing this Mr. Damer thought that he saw his way out of the
wood. "Wherever I go, Miss Dawkins, I am always the paymaster myself,"
and this he contrived to say with some sternness, palpitating though he
still was; and the sternness which was deficient in his voice he
endeavoured to put into his countenance.
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