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Updated: May 15, 2025
In Buncle himself there is a sort of extra-natural, "four-dimension" nature and proportion which assert the novelist's power memorably: if a John Buncle could exist, he would very probably be like Amory's John Buncle. If there is an almost preposterous cheerfulness about Buncle, the necessary alternative can be amply supplied by the next book to which we come.
"Not till I've said you're the biggest bounder in St. Amory's." "Now you've said it you really must go, or I'll throw you out!" Gus was too taken up with his own passion to notice that Cotton was also at about the limit of his patience, and that Jim's lips had set into a grim and ugly sneer.
He could tell her where to find the Calcutta newspaper which contained the account of Amory's trial, and he showed, and the Begum was not a little grateful to him for his forbearance, how being aware all along of this mishap which had befallen her, he had kept all knowledge of it to himself, and been constantly the friend of her family.
Upon this high dominion Night could not advance unheralded, and here the Twilight messengered her coming long after the dark lay thick on the lowland and on the toiling water. St. George, leaning from Amory's window, looked down on the shadows rising in exquisite hesitation, as if they came curling from the lighted censer of Med.
He looked at the piano, and there, by Miss Amory's side, was just such another purple-leather box as he had seen in Harry's hand three days before, when the heir of Logwood was coming out of a jeweler's shop in Waterloo-place. It was opened, and curled round the white-satin cushion within was, oh, such a magnificent serpentine bracelet, with such a blazing ruby head and diamond tail!
Before we recovered from our stupefaction he had vanished. The school clamoured for his return, but though they cheered for three minutes on end Acton did not reappear, and Brown struck up "God save the Queen!" Biffen's concert was at an end! Grim held a five minutes' meeting among the Biffenites before bed. "There's never been a fellow like Acton in St. Amory's. He goes away at nine to-morrow.
What a dear little gown of roses and what beautiful hands, St. George thought; and as for the broken statues and the inscriptions and the contents of the stone chests, nobody had paid any attention to them for so long that they could hardly have missed his regard. Nor Amory's.
George uttered a startled exclamation, caught at Amory's arm, sprang forward, and was off up the long room, dragging Amory with him. About the dais there was suddenly an appalling confusion. Push of feet, murmurs, a cry and, visible over the heads between, a glistening of gold uniforms closing about the throne seats, flashing back to the long, open windows, disappearing against the night...
"Well, I'm going to burn it all, right off." They did. I believe I am doing Grim no injustice when I say he looks less a poet, and acts up to his looks, than any junior in St. Amory's.
"He told me a story, sir, which gave me the deepest surprise and pain," said Pen. The major tried to look unconcerned. "What that story about about What-do-you-call-'em, hey?" "About Miss Amory's father about Lady Clavering's first husband, and who he is, and what." "Hem a devilish awkward affair!" said the old man, rubbing his nose.
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