He is very proud. Celestina is in love with
him, and tells him (but he knew that before) he is very handsome. He
is a man, he has a beard as black as the ace of spades, is full
dressed, and the world is before him. He thrashed a watchman last
night, and now he has a drop in his eye, would fight the devil. He has
succeeded in deceiving that gall, he has no more idea of marrying her
than I have. It shows his power. He would give a dollar to crow, but
suffers himself to be gently pushed out of the hall, and the door
fastened behind him, amid such endearing expressions, that they would
turn a fellow's head, even after his hair had grown gray. He then
lights a cigar, gets up with the driver, and looks round with an air
of triumph, as much as to say--'What would you give to be admired and
as successful as I am?' and when he turns the next corner, he does
actilly crow.
"Yes, yes, when the cat's away, the mice will play. Things ain't in a
mess, and that house a hurrah's nest, is it? Time wears on, and the
alternate gall must be a movin' now, for the other who was at the ball
has gone to bed, and intends to have her by-daily head-ache if
inquired for. To-night it will be her turn to dance, and to-morrow to
sleep, so she cuts round considerable smart. Poor thing, the time is
not far off when you will go to bed and not sleep, but it's only the
child that burns its fingers that dreads the fire.
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