When my uncle Toby and the corporal had marched down to the bottom of the avenue, they recollected their business lay the other way; so they faced about and marched up straight to Mrs. Wadman's door.
I warrant your honour; said the corporal, touching his Montero-cap with his hand, as he passed him in order to give a knock at the door--My uncle Toby, contrary to his invariable way of treating his faithful servant, said nothing good or bad: the truth was, he had not altogether marshal'd his ideas; he wish'd for another conference, and as the corporal was mounting up the three steps before the door--he hem'd twice--a portion of my uncle Toby's most modest spirits fled, at each expulsion, towards the corporal;he stood with the rapper of the door suspended for a full minute in his hand, he scarce knew why. Bridget stood perdue within, with her finger and her thumb upon the latch, benumb'd with expectation; and Mrs Wadman, with an eye ready to be deflowered again, sat breathless behind the window-curtain of her bed-chamber, watching their approach.
Trim! said my uncle Toby--but as he articulated the word, the minute expired, and Trim let fall the rapper.
My uncle Toby perceiving that all hopes of a conference were knock'd on the head by it--whistled Lillabullero.
