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He reached the back door at the same time as Mr. Bodfish, and placing his legs apart, held it firmly against the frantic efforts of the exconstable. The struggle ceased suddenly, and the door opened easily just as Mrs.
A few minutes later I was not whirling along the country roads, trying to balance the car with my legs and an elbow. Time passed, and I was not shaking hands with Mrs. Bodfish. I have just had the most corking half-hour, and shortly when you have remembered an appointment I shall go on having it. What I am really looking forward to is the happy time after dinner.
Bodfish; don't be alarmed." "Very good," said the farmer, who found his injured relative's gaze somewhat trying. "I'll go, and leave him to explain to Mrs. Driver why he was hidden in her larder. It don't seem a proper thing to me." "Why, you silly man," said Mrs. Clowes, gleefully, as she paused at the door, "that don't want any explanation. Now, Mr. Bodfish, we're giving you your chance.
He gave his right leg a congratulatory slap as he thought of it, and knocking the ashes from his pipe, went slowly up to bed. He was so amiable next morning that Mr. Bodfish, who was trying to explain to Mrs. Negget the difference between theft and kleptomania, spoke before him freely.
Driver was here, sitting in that very chair you are sitting in now." Mr. Bodfish pursed up his lips and made another note. Then he took a spill from the fireplace, and lighting a candle, went slowly and carefully up the stairs. He found nothing on them but two caked rims of mud, and being too busy to notice Mr. Negget's frantic signalling, called his niece's attention to them.
Bodfish affected the widow visibly, but its effect on the ex-constable nearly upset the bread-pan. "But here," continued Mr. Negget, with another glance at the larder, "he might go on like that for years. He's a wunnerful shy man big, and gentle, and shy. He wanted Lizzie to ask you to tea yesterday." "Now, Mr. Negget," said the blushing widow. "Do be quiet."
"I'm the law here, and I'm the police here. That little tiny bit o' dirt was off my boots, I dare say. I don't care if it was." "Very good," said Mr. Bodfish, turning to his indignant niece; "if he likes to look at it that way, there's nothing more to be said. I only wanted to get your brooch back for you, that's all; but if he's against it " "I'm against your asking Mrs.
Bodfish their faces at once regained their wonted calm, and the ex-constable in a somewhat offended manner resumed his inquiries. "Mrs. Driver has been here a good bit lately," he remarked, slowly. Mr. Negget's eyes watered, and his mouth worked piteously. "If you can't behave yourself, George began began his wife, fiercely. "What is the matter?" demanded Mr. Bodfish.
I won't have no woman asked here to tea to be got at like that. There's only my friends comes here to tea, and if any friend stole anything o' mine, I'd be one o' the first to hush it up." "If they were all like you, George," said his wife, angrily, "where would the law be?" "Or the police?" demanded Mr. Bodfish, staring at him. "I won't have it!" repeated the farmer, loudly.
Bodfish earnestly advised the propriety of anchoring here for the night, saying, "It is too rough to go on;" but the temptation held out by the proximity to Sorel determined me to take the risk and drive on. Again we bounded out upon rough water, with the screeching tempest upon us. David took the tiller, while I sat upon the weather-rail to steady the boat.
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