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From: | Hatty Cole |
Subject: | [Gwm-general] entertainer deterrence |
Date: | Thu, 31 Aug 2006 10:48:41 -0400 |
With every year, in these times, it was more
difficult todo what you said you would.
Id had it out to polish only a quarter of an hour
before.
Drawn up a report that nobody would look
at!
No, said Soames; no Trade Unionism then, to speak
of.
They were taking it almost as soberly as they had
taken thestrike itself. Beneath that top-dressing of speed,modernity was
old.
He could not decide whether or no thismarked an
advance.
Blythes continualremark: What the bee aitch are
they all about? The car stopped, and the young lady extended her hand to
Soames.
And, disconcerted by anoutburst that was bound to
lead to something, he averted his eyes.
His mothers youngest brother, Hilary Charwell,
Vicar ofSt. Drawn up a report that nobody would look at! Munching a biscuit, he
drank a glass of sherry,and walked over to the House of Commons. Perhaps they would
re-discover that some day. It, too, was moving in the direction of
GreenStreet.
Dyou remember, in America, up at MountVernon, when
I was taken ill?
With every year, in these times, it was more
difficult todo what you said you would. I dont see why an American should worry
herself. That reminds me, Michael; when are you coming round to see us? In Francis
Wilmotshistory of England the gap accounted for the rest. When they brought in State
Education, forinstance, they had thought the question settled.
And, withoutlooking at her cousin, she said:I saw
Jon in there. But everybodyran down England, because she didnt slop over, or blow
her owntrumpet. It was to be hoped they wouldnt wake thebaby!
He would like to see one of those greatthings! And
beyondthe ironic sympathy on Hollys face she seemed to see Jons smile. Ever heard
any moreof that red-haired young woman?
That and the fixed nature of ideas in England.
Well, Mother must put up with it, I cantdo anything.
Yes, she preferred the old smooth Irish linen
tothat new rough French grass-bleached stuff. Well, said Soames, you know your own
business best. Glad, sorry, ashamed, resentful, relieved?
Sitting back, with his legs stretchedout, he had
qualms. It had been great sport, but his hands and armsfelt wrenched. Too bad to
play at shuttlecock with them! That reminds me, Michael; when are you coming round
to see us? A special was escorting a lame man across thestreet.
What was the use of having judgment, if anybody
couldcome along and pocket the results! Theres thatfellow I employed in the Ferrar
case.
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