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She was more civil than she had intended, but really this young man was very kind. Moreover, she was a little afraid of him; his self-possession was extraordinary. "Very good indeed," she repeated, adding: "It is just what I should have wished." "Very good of you to say so," he replied, with a slight look of surprise, which, like most slight looks, escaped Mrs. Munt's attention.
She was more civil than she had intended, but really this young man was very kind. Moreover, she was a little afraid of him: his self-possession was extraordinary. "Very good indeed," she repeated, adding: "It is just what I should have wished." "Very good of you to say so," he replied, with a slight look of surprise, which, like most slight looks, escaped Mrs. Munt's attention.
Mounting by her side, he put on gloves and spectacles, and off they drove, the bearded porter life is a mysterious business looking after them with admiration. The wind was in their faces down the station road, blowing the dust into Mrs. Munt's eyes. But as soon as they turned into the Great North Road she opened fire. "You can well imagine," she said, "that the news was a great shock to us."
She put me through my catechism about the Maverings the day of the picnic down there." "Do you know them?" "Bridge Mavering and I were at Harvard together." "Tell me about them." Mrs. Brinkley listened to Munt's praises of his old friend with an attention superficially divided with the people to whom she bowed and smiled. The room was filling up.
Being near London, it had not shared in the rural decay, and its long High Street had budded out right and left into residential estates. For about a mile a series of tiled and slated houses passed before Mrs. Munt's inattentive eyes, a series broken at one point by six Danish tumuli that stood shoulder to shoulder along the highroad, tombs of soldiers.
Mounting by her side, he put on gloves and spectacles, and off they drove, the bearded porter life is a mysterious business looking after them with admiration. The wind was in their faces down the station road, blowing the dust into Mrs. Munt's eyes. But as soon as they turned into the Great North Road she opened fire. "You can well imagine," she said, "that the news was a great shock to us."
It was so still that they heard, and smiled to hear, the broken voices of the others, who had gone to get berries in another direction Miss Anderson's hoarse murmur and Munt's artificial bass. Some words came from the party on the rocks. "Isn't it perfect?" cried the young fellow in utter content.
Munt's hearth-rug with ostentatious haste, a large claim he would repudiate quietly, and fight court by court. But his true fighting weight, his antecedents, his amours with other members of the commercial Pantheon all these were as uncertain to ordinary mortals as were the escapades of Zeus. While the gods are powerful, we learn little about them.
Munt's hearthrug with ostentatious haste, a large claim he would repudiate quietly, and fight court by court. But his true fighting weight, his antecedents, his amours with other members of the commercial Pantheon all these were as uncertain to ordinary mortals as were the escapades of Zeus. While the gods are powerful, we learn little about them.
Munt's arm as if to leave him the freer for his hand-shaking. "Oh!" he said, suddenly recurring to her; "let me introduce you to Mrs. Pasmer, Mr. Mavering," and the latter made a bow that creased his waistcoat at about the height of Mrs. Pasmer's pretty little nose.
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