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Updated: June 22, 2025
Still she ascended the roof of King's, still she counted the balls of Clare, still she was on the point of grasping the organization of the May races. "And who is your friend?" she asked. "His name is Ansell." "Well, now, did I see him two years ago as a bedmaker in something they did at the Foot Lights? Oh, how I roared." "You didn't see Mr. Ansell at the Foot Lights," said Agnes, smiling.
But at this moment there fell most gratefully on his ear the sound of a strenuous sniff, repeated at short intervals in his sitting-room. Often had Maitland regretted the chronic cold and handkerchiefless condition of his bedmaker; but now her sniff was welcome as music, much more so than that of two hunting horns which ambitious sportsmen were trying to blow in quad. "Mrs.
Had he acted discourteously to his bedmaker or his gyp, he would have minded just as much, which was not polite of him. "First, I'll go and get food. Do sit down and rest. Oh, let me introduce " Ansell was now the sole remnant of the discussion party. He still stood on the hearthrug with a burnt match in his hand. Miss Pembroke's arrival had never disturbed him. "Let me introduce Mr.
Luckily his friends were up; and I always say they're more like brothers than anything else." "Nice for him. He has no real brothers." "Oh, Mr. Hornblower, he is a merry gentleman, and Mr. Tilliard too! And Mr. Elliot himself likes his romp at times. Why, it's the merriest staircase in the buildings! Last night the bedmaker from W said to me,'What are you doing to my gentlemen? Here's Mr.
Then the bedmakers began to arrive, chatting to each other pleasantly, and he could hear Ansell's bedmaker say, "Oh dang!" when she found she had to lay Ansell's tablecloth; for there was not a breath stirring.
As he went on his way to Saul's, grimly, it seemed humorous that "soft-faced" Bunning should be going to confess his thin, miserable little sins. For him, Olva Dune, only a dreadful silence. . . . And after all he slept, slept dreamlessly. He woke to the comfortable accustomed voices of Mrs. Ridge, his bedmaker, and Miss Annett, her assistant.
He had taken no high honours at Oxford; but the sternest officials smiled when they spoke of him, and recalled the boyish follies that were associated with his name; a sickly bedmaker had been pensioned for life by him; and the tradesmen who had served him testified to his merits as a prompt and liberal paymaster.
Then she said, "What is all this nonsense?" and folded him in her arms. Ansell stood looking at his breakfast-table, which was laid for four instead of two. His bedmaker, equally peevish, explained how it had happened. Last night, at one in the morning, the porter had been awoke with a note for the kitchens, and in that note Mr. Elliot said that all these things were to be sent to Mr. Ansell's.
The bedmaker, the men passing through the Court beneath his windows, the porter at the gate these people were unreal, and above him, around him, the mist seemed ever about to break into new terrible presences. "This thing is wearing me down.
'I am a true American, said Racksole, 'but my father, who began by being a bedmaker at an Oxford college, and ultimately made ten million dollars out of iron in Pittsburg my father took the wise precaution of having me educated in England. I had my three years at Oxford, like any son of the upper middle class! It did me good. It has been worth more to me than many successful speculations.
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