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But if she tries to convince us that it isn't true well, something in it." There was the gist of the matter, and Mrs. Poppit proceeding next to the Padre's house, found more muffins and incredulity. Nobody seemed to believe Elizabeth's assertion that there was "nothing in it."
Wants us to think it's not true." "She was very earnest about it," said the ambassador. Diva got up, and tripped over the outlying skirts of Mrs. Poppit's fur coat as she went to ring the bell. "Sorry," she said. "Take it off and have a chat. Tea's coming. Muffins!" "Oh, no, thanks!" said Mrs. Poppit. "I've so many calls to make." "What? Similar calls?" asked Diva. "Wait ten minutes. Tea, Janet.
"Say there's nothing in it?" she observed. "Can't understand that." At that moment Diva's telephone bell rang, and she hurried out and in. "Party at Elizabeth's on Wednesday," she said. "She saw me laughing. Why ask me?" Mrs. Poppit was full of her sacred mission. "To show how little she minds your laughing," she suggested. "As if it wasn't true, then. Seems like that.
The Padre had to compose his face before he responded to these compliments. "I'm reecht glad, fair lady," he replied, "that my bit discourse was to your mind. Come, wee wifie, we must be stepping." Quite suddenly all the group, with the exception of Mrs. Poppit, melted away.
Our hostess craves thy presence at yon table." Contrary to custom Mrs. Poppit did not sit firmly down at a table, nor was Isabel told that she had an invincible objection to playing bridge. Instead she bade everybody else take their seats, and said that she and Mr. Wyse had settled at dinner that they much preferred looking on and learning to playing.
But what she saw there or, to be more accurate, what she failed to see there forced her to give an exclamation which caused Miss Mapp to look round in the direction where Diva's bulging eyes were glued.... There was no doubt whatever about it: Mrs. Poppit and Mr. Wyse were no longer there. Unless they were under the sofa they had certainly left the room together and altogether.
"And you, dear Mrs. Poppit, as a woman of the world, can advise me what to do. The fact is that somehow or other, and I can't think how, people are saying that the duel last week, which was so happily averted, had something to do with poor little me. So absurd! But you know what gossips we have in our dear little Tilling." Mrs. Poppit turned on her a fallen and disappointed face.
Poppit deserved to be "served out" for not including her among the original guests, and if she declined it was quite probable that at this late hour her hostess might not be able to get anyone else, and so one of her tables would be completely spoiled.
Miss Poppit came up the street and Miss Mapp put up her illustrated paper again, with the revolting picture of the Brighton sea-nymphs turned towards the window. Peeping out behind it, she observed that Miss Poppit's basket was apparently oozing with bright venous blood, and felt certain that she had bought red currants. That, coupled with the ice, made conjecture complete.
I was bowing and smiling on this side and that till I felt quite dizzy." "And was the Prince of Wales there?" asked Diva, beginning to wind her head up again. She did not care about the crowds. "No, he wasn't there," said Mrs. Poppit, determined to have no embroidery in her story, however much other people, especially Miss Mapp, decorated remarkable incidents till you hardly recognized them.
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