Enemies the most obstinate and courageous can't hold out against starvation; so the elder Osborne felt himself pretty easy about his adversary in the encounter we have just described; and as soon as George's supplies fell short, confidently expected his unconditional submission. It was unlucky, to be sure, that the lad should have secured a stock of provisions on the very day when the first encounter took place; but this relief was only temporary, old Osborne thought, and would but delay George's surrender. No communication passed between father and son for some days. The former was sulky at this silence, but not disquieted; for, as he said, he knew where he could put the screw upon George, and only waited the result of that operation. He told the sisters the upshot of the dispute between them, but ordered them to take no notice of the matter, and welcome George on his return as if nothing had happened. His cover was laid as usual every day, and perhaps the old gentleman rather anxiously expected him; but he never came. Some one inquired at the Slaughters' regarding him, where it was said that he and his friend Captain Dobbin had left town.
One gusty, raw day at the end of April--the rain whipping the pavement of that ancient street where the old Slaughters' Coffee-house was once situated--George Osborne came into the coffee-room, looking very haggard and pale; although dressed rather smartly in a blue coat and brass buttons, and a neat buff waistcoat of the fashion of those days. Here was his friend Captain Dobbin, in blue and brass too, having abandoned the military frock and French-grey trousers, which were the usual coverings of his lanky person.

The most obstinate enemies can't hold out against starvation; so the elder Osborne felt pretty confident that as soon as George's supplies fell short, he would submit. It was unlucky, to be sure, that he had collected some money on the very day of the encounter; but old Osborne thought this would merely delay George's surrender.
No communication passed between father and son for some days. The former was sulky at this silence, but not disquieted. He told the sisters the upshot of the dispute, but ordered them to take no notice of the matter, and to welcome George on his return as if nothing had happened. The old gentleman rather anxiously expected him every day; but he never came. Someone inquired about him at the Slaughters', where it was said that he and his friend Captain Dobbin had left town.
One gusty, raw day at the end of April - the rain whipping the pavement of the ancient street outside the Slaughters' Coffee-house - George Osborne entered, looking haggard and pale; although dressed rather smartly in a blue coat and brass buttons, and a neat buff waistcoat. His friend Captain Dobbin was there, in blue and brass too.
