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"All business must be minded, dame," said the goldsmith. "Make my remembrances George Heriot, of Lombard Street's remembrances to your goodman. I have dealt with him he is just and punctual true to time and engagements; be kind to your noble guest, and see he wants nothing.
"Tell you what, folks," he said, "while it's a bit of a blow to have our baby cut loose like this, there's something to be said on the other side. Marc Scott's a first-class fellow and he'll make her a much better husband than that Henderson chap ever would." "But, Bob dear, what sort of a man is he?" Mrs. Street's delicate face expressed alarm neatly blended with horror.
Some people have boys, and other people 'ave the trouble of 'em. Our street's full of 'em, and the way they carry on would make a monkey-'ouse ashamed of itself. The man next door to me's got seven of 'em, and when I spoke to 'im friendly about it over a pint one night, he put the blame on 'is wife.
The crowd was astounded; men of Fourteenth Street's calibre seldom had pluck enough to go to the mines, and their getting away, or their doing any thing that required manliness, was of still more unfrequent occurrence. "I know it," said the young man, translating the glances which met his eye. "You fellows think I don't amount to much, anyway. Perhaps I don't.
Gorgeous bush-flowers, great of petal as magnolias, with perfume that lay on the air like a heavy drowsiness; long clear stretches of an ankle-high shrub of vivid emerald, looking in the distance like sloping meadows of a peculiar color-brilliance; patches of smaller flowers where for the trifling space of a street's width the sun had unobstructed fall, these from time to time diversified the way, brought to our perceptions the endearing trifles of earthiness, of humanity, befittingly to modify the austerity of the great forest.
Two manoeuvres of this kind occurred on the march, the first of little moment, but the second communicating through the scouts, the exact position of the enemy, who, apprised of their assailants' approach, lay concealed in a thicket of bushes, along the margin of Street's creek.
The old houses of monsieur stand yet, indomitable against the century, but their essence is gone. The street is one of ghosts to whosoever can see them. A faint heartbeat of the street's ancient glory still survives in a corner occupied by the Cafe Carabine d'Or. Once men gathered there to plot against kings, and to warn presidents. They do so yet, but they are not the same kind of men.
'I rede ye ride swiftly to Hampton. I am the Lord Cromwell's man. Culpepper brought his excited mind from the thought of the burning and the joy of the day, with its crowd and its odour of men, and sunshine and tumult. 'Ye say? Swine, he shouted. 'Come aside! He caught at the man's collar and kicked his horse and pulled at its jaws till it drew them out of the thin crowd to a street's opening.
A second later the runabout crashed at full speed into the wall of a house on the narrow street's opposite side. The rest was chaos. When a crowd of idlers and a policeman at last righted the wrecked car, two bodies were found huddled inertly amid a junk-heap of splintered glass and shivered wood and twisted metal. The local ambulance carried away one of these limp bodies.
It seemed to her now as if that precipitate taking of Arthur Alce had been at the bottom of all her troubles; she had been only a poor little schoolgirl, a raw contriver, hurling herself out of the frying-pan of Ansdore's tyranny into the fire of Donkey Street's dullness. She knew better now besides, the increased freedom and comfort of her conditions did not involve the same urgency of escape.
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