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I suppose the ancient Romans brought cushions." Mr. Dod did not appear to hear me. "In the third row below," he exclaimed, blushing joyfully, "the sixth from this end do you see? Yellow bun under a floral hat Isabel!" "A yellow bun under a floral hat," I repeated, "that would be Isabel, if you add a good complexion and a look of deportment. Yes, now I see her. Mrs. Portheris on one side, Mr.
Portheris would be much more valuable if it were united. There would be the registrar one registrar would do and there would be the opportunity of making it a square party.
Portheris had told me that poppa had written to Arthur I didn't mind him enduring unnumbered pangs of hope deferred, but it was quite another thing that he should undergo the unnecessary martyrdom of imagining that he had been superseded by Dicky Dod. On reflection, I thought it would be safer to start Mr.
"I mean I have myself to blame, I know," and as Mr. Mafferton dropped into the seat opposite Miss Callis I saw Mrs. Portheris regard him austerely, as one for whom it was possible to make too much allowance.
Jarvis Portheris proceeded to explain how the doctors pulled open the cuts if they promised to heal without leaving any sign of valour, poppa's impatience with the noble army of duellists grew so great that he could hardly remain in Heidelberg till the train was ready to take him away. "But don't they ever by accident do themselves any harm?" inquired my disappointed parent.
Portheris; at least, neither of my parents did I knew enough about Dicky Dod not to be surprised at any combination he might effect. There they all were in the middle of the square bit of meadow, apparently waiting for us, but really, I have no doubt, getting an impression of the architecture as a whole. I could tell from Mrs. Portheris's attitude that she had acknowledged herself to be gratified.
'Procrastination, not 'punctuality." "Thanks," I said. I could not help observing that for quite five minutes Mr. Mafferton had made no effort to overhear the conversation between Mr. Dod and Miss Portheris. It was a trifle, but life is made up of little things. "I don't believe we adorn our conversation with proverbs in America as much as we did," I continued. "I guess it takes too long.
What fellow would think twice of being thrown over, if Miss Portheris were the alternative!" "It depends, Dicky," I observed. "You are jumping at conclusions." "What I hoped," he went on regretfully as we took our places in the elevator, "was that we might travel together a bit and that you wouldn't mind just now and then taking old Mafferton off our hands, you know."
For a time, as I talked in commonplaces, Mr. Mafferton in monosyllables, and Mr. Dod and Miss Portheris in regards, the most sordid realist would have hesitated to chronicle our conversation. "When," I inquired casually, "are you thinking of going back, Mr. Mafferton?" "To town? Not before October, I fancy!" "Even in Rome," I observed, "London is 'town' to you, isn't it?
"You know I haven't really," she said, "it's all one's long frocks and doing up one's hair, you know." "Miss Portheris only came out two months ago," remarked Mr. Dod, with the effect of announcing that Venus had just arisen from the foam. "Come, young people," Mrs. Portheris exclaimed from the lift; "we are waiting for you." Poppa and momma and Mr. Mafferton were already inside. Mrs.
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