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He laughed aloud, proclaimed his love for Zora, shook his somewhat bewildered friend by the hand, and informed him that he, Septimus, alone of mortals, was responsible for the great decision. And while Septimus wondered what the deuce he meant, he rang the bell and summoned Shuttleworth. The dismal manager entered the room. On seeing Sypher's cheery face, his own brightened.
"It's true niceness," said Priscilla, smiling down at the little old lady whose eyes were twinkling all over her. "I don't think you'll find us in any way a nuisance. All we want is to be quiet." Mrs. Morrison sniffed. "Do you really?" said Lady Shuttleworth. "Then we shall get on capitally. It's what I like best myself. And you've come too," she went on, turning to Mrs.
For one thing. But " Lady Shuttleworth shut her mouth. "But what?" asked Priscilla. "Oh, nothing." "If it's not the custom of the country for a girl to go I'll send Mr. Morrison," said Priscilla. "Send Mr. Morrison?" gasped the vicar's wife. "What, the vicar?" exclaimed Lady Shuttleworth. "No, no," said Priscilla smiling, "young Mr. Morrison. I see him over there tying up my creepers.
Then several of the Tory members attempted to corner Sir U.K. Shuttleworth about the quantity of coals consumed in the "Majestic" while going at full speed. Sir Edward Harland was cautious, and Mr. Gibson Bowles, whose rising was the signal for derisive cheers, was pertinacious. The Secretary to the Admiralty, always dignified, was grave and serious.
"That was a joke, Shuttleworth. Haven't you noticed that my jokes are always rather subtle? No, of course you are to manage the Cure." "I know nothing about that, sir," said Shuttleworth hastily. Sypher rose and walked about the room, saying nothing, and his manager followed him anxiously with his eyes. Presently he paused before the cartoon of the famous poster.
He held them in a clutch that seemed like hot iron in both his, and dragging himself nearer to them covered them with wild kisses. Lady Shuttleworth was appalled. "Tussie," she said in a very even voice, "you must let Miss Neumann-Schultz go now. You must be quiet again now. Let her go, dear. Perhaps she'll come again."
Even a month ago, had Shuttleworth uttered such blasphemy within those walls Clem Sypher would have arisen in his wrath like a mad crusader and have cloven the blasphemer from skull to chine. To-day, he had sat motionless, petrified, scarcely able to feel. He knew that the man spoke truth.
"I really think, sir," said Fritzing stretching his hand towards his hat, "that it is better I should try to obtain an interview with Lady Shuttleworth, for I fear you are constitutionally incapable of carrying on a business conversation with the requisite decent self-command." "Pooh you'll get nothing out of her. She'll send you back to me.
"And I've got to say suthin' more, gen'lemen," continued Shuttleworth, now entirely removing his coat and vest, and apparently shaking himself free from any extraneous trammels.
Despite the summer weather, the huge building was crammed with people, every inch of standing room being occupied, and thousands turned away from the doors. Letters of sympathy were sent by Canon Shuttleworth, Admiral Maxse and Mr. P. A. Taylor M.P. Among the speakers were the Rev. W. Sharman, the Rev. S. D. Headlam, the Rev. E. M. Geldart, Mr. C. Bradlaugh M.P., Mrs. Annie Besant, Dr.
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