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"It's intolerable!" she cried. "I won't listen. You are every bit as bad as those two poisonous women you overheard talking. Your mind must be as evil as theirs. I tell you there is no harm in my friendship with Mr. Kennard; he has been awfully kind to me, sending me flowers and lending me books, and I hope I have been of some help to him; he is grateful, that is all."
Felix's voice again: "Sir, it was our Lieutenant Hartford that the Gooks got. I'd like to go in early."
I need scarcely say that when I went to London I did not seek out Houghton, who had settled down in the Metropolis some months before me. But we met in the Strand, he wearing a fur-lined overcoat and looking a trifle like H. B. Irving, and I carrying a load of review books under my arm. We looked at each other; we hesitated; we stopped. Stanley was a trifle languid and, after a few inconsequent remarks, he began telling me the history of his fur overcoat. He had, he said, bought it for five pounds or seven pounds, or some such ridiculously low price, and he had bought it second-hand.
“Let them mount,” said Poirot, carefully folding his grey trousers.
“Ah, of course, you are not the doctor.”
"You needn't laugh at him," responded Mrs. Wodehouse tartly; and then, with a slight blush, she added: "It is not impossible that—in fact—to be very confidential—he proposed last week; I've got it under consideration—he is certainly a very pleasant person."
Five grey dogs were coming down the aisle to their benches. The Merle Class had been judged and the Tricolours were in the ring. There were but four of these.
"Your Excellency has a lucid way of putting things," Retief said.
“Then I will be a true philosopher,” she said, with a laugh. The laugh was more than a mere recovery of spirits. It broke out again after a little, as if with a sense of something irresistibly comic. “But I must not interfere too much with Mariuccia, it appears. She knows what you like better than I do. I am only to look wise when she submits her menu, as if I knew all about it. I am very good at looking as if I knew all about it. By the way, do you know there is no piano? I should like to have a piano, if I might.”
Arthur noted again that effect of some unstated contingent.
wife and children of which the modern State has partially deprived him. The development of secular education is to be arrested, particular stress is to be laid upon the wickedness of any intervention with natural reproductive processes, the spread of knowledge in certain directions is to be made criminal, and early marriages are to be encouraged.... I do not by any means regard this as an impossible programme; I believe that in many directions it is quite a practicable one; it is in harmony with great masses of feeling in the country, and with many natural instincts. It would not of course affect the educated wealthy and leisurely upper class in the community, who would be able and intelligent enough to impose their own private glosses upon its teaching, but it would “moralize” the general population, and reduce them to a state of prolific squalor. Its realization would be, I believe, almost inevitably accompanied by a decline in sanitation, and a correlated rise in birth-rate and death-rate, for life would be cheap, and drainpipes and
In those days there was but little betting done until the day of the race, and most generally not until the horses were on the track. On this occasion Commodore Stockdon, who, besides being a Commodore in our navy was also a true sportsman and a prominent breeder and importer of thoroughbreds, and who owned and raced some prominent horses of the day, proposed on the evening before the race to Mr. Pringle, the most noted sporting man of that day, in Washington, that he would bet him ,000 on Duane, provided he liked the looks of the horse the next day. The bet was promptly taken, and the next day when the horses were brought out, after carefully inspecting Duane, the Commodore told Pringle it was “a go.” This settled it. No money passed, and rarely ever did with big bettors. In those days men’s words were sufficient. What a striking difference between then and now! Here a Commodore in the navy bets ,000 with a noted gambler, with nothing more than the word “go” between them, and yet either would have sold the clothes off his back rather than to crawfish out of the bet, or in any way defraud the other. This even bet seemed to make the mark for others to go by, and the money went on even up, and by the cartload in sums from fifty to five and ten thousand dollars a side. As a rule the Southern contingent backed Duane, while the New Yorkers piled their wealth on Boston. McCargo’s mulatto boy, Steve, who had ridden Carter against Boston, at Long Island, was now up on Duane to make another desperate effort to down the champion, while Cornelius, Boston’s old rider, a negro boy who belonged to Mr. Reeves, the owner of the horse, was in the pigskin on his favorite.