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It might be all over town. Of course, in that case he could turn Lulu out should do so, in fact. Still the story would be all over town. "Dwight," said Lulu, "I want Ninian's address." "Going to write to him!" Ina cried incredulously. "I want to ask him for the proofs that Dwight wanted." "My dear Lulu," Dwight said impatiently, "you are not the one to write. Have you no delicacy?"

Baffled, thwarted, bewildered, Di went over to Jenny Plow's and there imparted understanding by the simple process of letting Jenny guess, to questions skilfully shaped. When Dwight said, "Look at my beautiful handkerchief," displayed a hole, sent his Ina for a better, Lulu, with a manner of haste, addressed him: "Dwight. It's a funny thing, but I haven't Ninian's Oregon address." "Well?"

"We ought to have some notion of what we're going to do with our lives.... As a matter of fact," he continued, "your career's fairly certain, Roger. With all that brain oozing out of you, you're bound to become great. But what about little Ninian here? And Quinny? And me? Ninian's a discontented sort of bloke, and he's quite likely to make a mess of things unless we look after him.

Ninian's praise was extravagant, and he was almost like a child in his pleasure at receiving an inscribed copy from Henry. He spent the better part of an afternoon in going to bookshops and asking the grossly ignorant assistants why they had not got "Drusilla" prominently placed in the window.

At length, having noted the details of all the clothes in range, Ina's isolation palled upon her and she set herself to take Ninian's attention. She therefore talked with him about himself. "Curious you've never married, Nin," she said. "Don't say it like that," he begged. "I might yet." Ina laughed enjoyably. "Yes, you might!" she met this.

There was no answer from the sharpshooter, who had gotten his horse into a steady trot and was putting the road behind him in a manner that needed all Ninian's efforts to match.

I think life will be harsher for women after the war than it was before...." She remembered that Ninian's father had always declared that the Franco-German War had brutalised Germany. "He'd lived in Germany for a long while," she said, "and people admitted that Germany had changed after the War ... grown coarser and leas kindly!..." They talked on in this strain until the clock chimed twelve.

In all their discussions, it was Roger who reminded them of the essential things, refusing persistently to be carried away by Gilbert's imagination or Ninian's impatience. People were sometimes irritated by Roger's slow, imperturbable way of speaking ... they called him a prig ... but as they knew him better, they lost their irritation and thought of him with respect.

So, run to Aunt Sally, dear, and ask if she can be spared from her nursing a few hours. I think one of the other men will relieve Ephraim, if he is tired, in waiting upon Antonio. I want she should help me get up an extra fine supper for Mr. Ninian's friend. Ah! my child, how much we owe to that young man's goodness and enterprise!" "Indeed, indeed, we do.

They may have been more or less got at by Christianity, in Saint Ninian's time, but the influence might well be slight. On the other hand, neither men nor angels can explain why the forger faked his figurines, for which he certainly had a model at least as regards the female figure in a widely distributed archaic feminine type of "dolly." The forger knew a good deal! Dr.