Only do thou in all things my commands.'
And seeing by the peculiar expression of the rogue's countenance, that
some mad waggery was in preparation, I awaited the morrow with anxiety.
CHAPTER XXXV--SNOBS AND MARRIAGE
Punctual to the hour--(by the way, I cannot omit to mark down my hatred,
scorn, and indignation towards those miserable Snobs who come to dinner
at nine when they are asked at eight, in order to make a sensation in
the company. May the loathing of honest folks, the backbiting of others,
the curses of cooks, pursue these wretches, and avenge the society on
which they trample!)--Punctual, I say, to the hour of five, which Mr.
and Mrs. Raymond Gray had appointed, a youth of an elegant appearance,
in a neat evening-dress, whose trim whiskers indicated neatness, whose
light step denoted activity (for in sooth he was hungry, and always is
at the dinner hour, whatsoever that hour may be), and whose rich
golden hair, curling down his shoulders, was set off by a perfectly new
four-and-ninepenny silk hat, was seen wending his way down Bittlestone
Street, Bittlestone Square, Gray's Inn. The person in question, I need
not say, was Mr. Snob. HE was never late when invited to dine. But to
proceed my narrative:--
Mr. Snob may have flattered himself that he made a sensation as he
strutted down Bittlestone with his richly gilt knobbed cane (and indeed
I vow I saw heads looking at me from Miss Squilsby's, the brass-plated
milliner opposite Raymond Gray's, who has three silver-paper bonnets,
and two fly-blown prints of fashion in the window), yet what was the
emotion produced by my arrival, compared to that which the little street
thrilled, when at five minutes past five the floss-wigged coachman, the
yellow hammer-cloth and flunkeys, the black horses and blazing silver
harness of Mr.
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