The Lost World Read Online Free Page B

The Lost World
Book: The Lost World Read Online Free
Author: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
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door, but it would have been too ignominious. Besides, a little glow of righteous anger was springing up within me. I had been hopelessly in the wrong before, but this man’s menaces were putting me in the right.
    ‘I’ll trouble you to keep your hands off, sir. I’ll not stand it.”
    “Dear me!” His black mustache lifted and a white fang twinkled in a sneer. “You won’t stand it, eh?”

    “Don’t be such a fool, Professor!” I cried. “What can you hope for? I’m fifteen stone, as hard as nails, and play center three-quarter every Saturday for the London Irish. I’m not the man——”
    It was at that moment that he rushed me. It was lucky that I had opened the door, or we should have gone through it. We did a Catherine-wheel together down the passage. Somehow we gathered up a chair upon our way, and bounded on with it towards the street. My mouth was full of his beard, our arms were locked, our bodies intertwined, and that infernal chair radiated its legs all round us. The watchful Austin had thrown open the hall door. We went with a back somersault down the front steps. I had seen the two Macs attempt something of the kind at the halls, but it appears to take some practice to do it without hurting oneself. The chair went to matchwood at the bottom, and we rolled apart into the gutter. He sprang to his feet, waving his fists and wheezing like an asthmatic.
    “Had enough?” he panted.
    “You infernal bully!” I cried, as I gathered myself together.
    Then and there we should have tried the thing out, for he was effervescing with fight, but fortunately I was rescued from an odious situation. A policeman was beside us, his notebook in his hand.
    “What’s all this? You ought to be ashamed,” said the policeman. It was the most rational remark which I had heard in Enmore Park. “Well,” he insisted, turning to me, “what is it, then?”
    “This man attacked me,” said I.
    “Did you attack him?” asked the policeman.
    The Professor breathed hard and said nothing.
    “It’s not the first time, either,” said the policeman, severely shaking his head. “You were in trouble last month
for the same thing. You’ve blackened this young man’s eye. Do you give him in charge, sir?”
    I relented.
    “No,” said I, “I do not.”
    “What’s that?” said the policeman.
    “I was to blame myself. I intruded upon him. He gave me fair warning.”
    The policeman snapped up his notebook.
    “Don’t let us have any more such goings-on,” said he. “Now, then! Move on, there, move on!” This to a butcher’s boy, a maid, and one or two loafers who had collected. He clumped heavily down the street, driving this little flock before him. The Professor looked at me, and there was something humorous at the back of his eyes.
    “Come in!” said he. “I’ve not done with you yet.”
    The speech had a sinister sound, but I followed him none the less into the house. The man-servant, Austin, like a wooden image, closed the door behind us.

4
    It’s Just the Very Biggest Thing in the World
    HARDLY WAS IT SHUT THAN MRS. CHALLENGER DARTED OUT from the dining-room. The small woman was in a furious temper. She barred her husband’s way like an enraged chicken in front of a bulldog. It was evident that she had seen my exit, but had not observed my return.
    “You brute, George!” she screamed. “You’ve hurt that nice young man.”
    He jerked backwards with his thumb.
    “Here he is, safe and sound behind me.”
    She was confused, but not unduly so.
    “I am sorry, I didn’t see you.”
    “I assure you, madam, that it is all right.”
    “He has marked your poor face! Oh, George, what a brute you are! Nothing but scandals from one end of the week to the other. Everyone hating and making fun of you. You’ve finished my patience. This ends it.”
    “Dirty linen,” he rumbled.
    “It’s not a secret,” she cried. “Do you suppose that the whole street—the whole of London, for that matter——
Get away,

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