Fred observed that Lydgate was losing fast, and found himself in the
new situation of puzzling his brains to think of some device by which,
without being offensive, he could withdraw Lydgate's attention,
and perhaps suggest to him a reason for quitting the room. He saw
that others were observing Lydgate's strange unlikeness to himself,
and it occurred to him that merely to touch his elbow and call
him aside for a moment might rouse him from his absorption.
He could think of nothing cleverer than the daring improbability
of saying that he wanted to see Rosy, and wished to know if she
were at home this evening; and he was going desperately to carry
out this weak device, when a waiter came up to him with a message,
saying that Mr. Farebrother was below, and begged to speak with him.
Fred was surprised, not quite comfortably, but sending word
that he would be down immediately, he went with a new impulse up
to Lydgate, said, "Can I speak to you a moment?" and drew him aside.
"Farebrother has just sent up a message to say that he wants to speak
to me. He is below. I thought you might like to know he was there,
if you had anything to say to him."
Fred had simply snatched up this pretext for speaking, because he
could not say, "You are losing confoundedly, and are making everybody
stare at you; you had better come away.
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