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"No," replied Mrs. Chumley, lapsing into thoughtful mood. "I suppose I couldn't. Squirrels are very pretty. I am afraid I was never like a squirrel. How many inches are you round the waist?" "I don't know. About twenty," replied Flamby, suddenly stricken with shyness; "but I'm only little." "Are you little, dear? I should not have called you little. You are taller than I am." Since Mrs.
Brailstone and Chumley Potts were town criers of the executioner letter each had received from the earl; Potts with his chatter of a suicide's pistol kept loaded in a case under a two-inch-long silver Cross, and with sundry dramatic taps on the forehead, Jottings over the breast, and awful grimace of devoutness. There was no mistaking him.
"I will consult Mrs. Chumley, my aunt, and arrange, if possible, for Miss Duveen to live at The Hostel. I have already written to her upon the subject. If it can be managed I shall 'phone you later to-day, and perhaps you would be good enough to wire to Miss Duveen requesting her to come to London immediately. Don't mention my name, you understand?
Chumley Potts offered Ambrose Mallard fair odds that the neat little trap of the chief sporting journal, which had a reputation to maintain, would be over one or other of the bridges crossing the Thames first. Mallard had been struck by the neat little trap of an impudent new and lower- priced journal, which had a reputation to gain.
Her father had taught her to despise the pettiness of women, but in Mrs. Chumley's sweet sympathy she had found a new model of conduct. Her later philosophy was a quaint one. "It isn't fair, Mrs. Chumley," she said one day, sitting on the settee in her little room, knees drawn up to chin and her arms embracing them "it isn't fair to hate a girl for being spiteful.
You are not obliged to see it; you can be driven away if you wish. 'I will be here, if you are here. 'You choose it. Fleetwood leaned over to Chumley Potts on the turf. 'Abrane's ruining himself. Potts frankly hoped that his friend might be doing so. 'Todds is jolly well backed. He's in prime condition. He's the favourite of the knowing ones. 'You wouldn't have the odds, if he weren't.
Why should we say goold and write gold, and call china chayney, and Cavendish Candish, and Cholmondeley Chumley? If we call Pulteney Poltney, why shouldn't we call poultry pultry and "'Such an enchantress as your ladyship, says he, 'is mistress of all sorts of spells. But this was Dr. Swift's pun, and we all knew it.
Mallard, speaking of it like the gentleman he could be, while Chumley Potts wagged impatient acquiescence in a romantic episode of the Ring, that kept the talk from the hotter theme. 'Money's Bank of England to-day, you think? he interposed, and had his answer after Mallard had said: 'The girl 's rather good-looking, too. 'You may double your bets, Chummy.
His wretchedness was due now to the fact that the aforetime huntress refused to be captured. He took a silver cross from a table-drawer and laid it on the pistol-case. 'There, Chummy, he said; that was all; not sermonizing or proselytizing. He was partly comprehended by Chumley Potts, fully a week later.
It was in Cairo, and I found that so many of them were not really blind at all. Do you know, dear, it was not a bit of good. I found myself doing it when I wasn't thinking. I tried going out without money and then all the blind men followed me about the streets. It was most awkward. The poor things couldn't understand why I had changed, of course." "You had not changed, Mrs. Chumley.
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