be miserable at
homeand as the nights were dark and the way was drearyand almost any
companionship on the road was better than noneI made no great resistance;
consequentlywe turned into Pumblechook's just as the street and the shops were lighting
up.
As I never assisted at any other representation of George BarnwellI don't how long it
may usually take; but I know very well that it took until half-past nine o' clock that night
and that when Mr Wopsle got into NewgateI thought he never would go to the scaffold
he became so much slower than at any former period of his disgraceful career. I thought it
a little too much that he should complain of being cut short in his flower after allas if he
had not been running to seedleaf after leafever since his course began. Thishowever
was a mere question of length and wearisomeness. What stung mewas the identification
of the whole affair with my unoffending self. When Barnwell began to go wrongI
declare that I felt positively apologeticPumblechook's indignant stare so taxed me with it.
Wopsletootook pains to present me in the worst light. At once ferocious and maudlinI
was made to murder my uncle with no extenuating circumstances whatever; Millwood
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