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He could not come upon the false keys, and, finally, he made a snatch at the tray, and turned it upside down. The keys were not there. When he had fully taken in the fact it cost him some little time to do it he turned his anger upon Bywater. "You have took 'em, you have! you have turned thief, and stole 'em! I put 'em here in the knife-box, and they are gone! What have you done with 'em?"
"All my customers are heavy drinkers; I wouldn't want to answer for what might happen if some of them saw that thing, suddenly." "Oh, well.... How about that-there little amethyst bottle, then?" "Well ... I would give you seven dollars for that," she grudged. "Y'would? Well, it's yours, then. An' how about them-there salt-cellars, an' that-there knife-box?"
He put them into a knife-box, he says, and this morning they are gone. He intended to take them round to Pye, and I left him going rampant over the loss. Didn't I chaff him?" Hurst laughed. He unbuttoned the pocket of his trousers, and partially exhibited two rusty keys. "I was not going to leave them to Ketch for witnesses," said he.
I'll show 'em to the dean! I'll show 'em again to his lordship the bi What's gone of the keys?" The last sentence was uttered in a different tone and in apparent perplexity. With shaking hands, excited by passion, Mr. Ketch was rummaging the knife-box an old, deep, mahogany tray, dark with age, divided by a partition rummaging for the rusty keys. He could not find them.
Men have all sorts of things to worry about. As for me, I've made a discovery, Harriet, at least I think I have." "Why, mother!" Mrs. Floyd put the knives and forks into the knife-box. "Hettie Fergusson was here just now," she said. "This early!" exclaimed Harriet, incredulously. "Why, mother, where did she spend the night?"
Rand wandered back to examining firearms. Eventually, after buying the knife-box, Karen got rid of the man with the antiques. When he had gone, she found a pack of cigarettes, offered it to Rand and lit one for herself. "Well, now you see why girls leave home and start antique shops," she said. "Never a dull moment.... Wasn't that sword the awfullest thing you ever saw, though?"
"Come, that's good!" exclaimed Bywater, in too genuine a tone to admit a suspicion of its truth. "I have not been near your knife-box; I have not put my foot inside the door." In point of fact, Bywater had not. He had stood outside, bending his head and body inwards, his hands grasping either door-post. "What's gone with 'em? who 'as took 'em off?
The turkey carpet has rolled itself up, and retired sulkily under the sideboard: the pictures have hidden their faces behind old sheets of brown paper: the ceiling lamp is muffled up in a dismal sack of brown holland: the window-curtains have disappeared under all sorts of shabby envelopes: the marble bust of Sir Walpole Crawley is looking from its black corner at the bare boards and the oiled fire-irons, and the empty card-racks over the mantelpiece: the cellaret has lurked away behind the carpet: the chairs are turned up heads and tails along the walls: and in the dark corner opposite the statue, is an old-fashioned crabbed knife-box, locked and sitting on a dumb waiter.
And, as Tom said this, he sidled up to the knife-box that stood upon the dresser, and made a dive into it with his hand. "Oh, no, no, no, Tommy! that won't do, either," said the cook. "The knives have all been cleaned, and they are to go on the table to eat with." "Then what can I play with, Margaret?" asked the child, as he left the dresser. "I want something to play with."
Many people have tried to make things from printed directions, a woman may try to make a blouse and a man to make a knife-box; their procedure is not to separate the doing and the learning process; probably they have first tried to do, found need for help, and gone to the printed directions, which they followed side by side with the doing; and in the light of former failures or in the course of looking or of experimenting, they stumbled upon knowledge: this is learning by doing.
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