Many of the ladies had spoken of the
bookmaker as one of the best-mannered men on board. So he was to all
appearance. None dressed with better taste, nor carried himself with such
an air. There was even a deferential tone in his strong language, a
hesitating quaintness, which made it irresistible. He was at the service
of any person on board needing championship. His talents were varied. He
could suggest harmonies in colour to the ladies at one moment, and at the
next, in the seclusion of the bar counter, arrange deadly harmonies in
liquor. He was an authority on acting; he knew how to edit a newspaper;
he picked out the really nice points in the sermons delivered by the
missionaries in the saloon; he had some marvellous theories about
navigation; and his trick with a salad was superb. He now convulsed the
idlers in the smoking-room with laughter, and soon deftly drew off the
discussion to the speed of the vessel, arranging a sweep-stake
immediately, upon the possibilities of the run. He instantly proposed to
sell the numbers by auction. He was the auctioneer. With his eye-glass at
his eye, and Bohemian pleasantry falling from his lips, he ran the prices
up.
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