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Updated: June 10, 2025
Bowles says that all the Persian and Turkish women on the island are crazy about the fellow." "Mr. Britt!" protested Mrs. Browne. "Beg pardon. Perhaps Bowles is wrong. Well, to make it short, the lawyer has got Von Blitz to hating him secretly, and the German has a lot of influence over the people. It may be uncomfortable for our good-looking friend.
But when he came back from the field in the afternoon, he returned from conferences with Egyptian skeptics who had not seen Tasper Britt in his new form, and therefore, perhaps, their assertions had caused Elias to doubt the evidences of his own senses. At any rate, the Prophet resolved to put the reform of Pharaoh to the test of texts, and he raised his voice and declaimed.
"But you must have some idea of what the trouble is." "There's trouble, all right, Mr. Britt plenty of it. There's no use in my denying that. But I'm not far enough along to give any sensible explanation." The president showed real anxiety. "What do you say for a guess?"
The blood turned cold in the veins of every one in the garden; faces blanched suddenly and all voices were hushed; a form of paralysis seized and held them for a full minute. Then the voice of Britt below broke harshly upon the tense, still air: "Good God! Look! It is the bungalow!"
Know your place and be mighty careful how you go against me in anything anything where I'm interested." Britt had whipped himself into anger. That anger, fanned by a flame of jealousy after it had been touched off by his inspection of youth and good looks, had carried Mr. Britt far. He shook the letter at the young man.
It'll be a shame to take her back to that stuffy city at this time of the year." "But what shall I do without her?" Mrs. Sinclair asked. "She is all I have near me, and I shall miss her so much if she remains with you." "You can come and see her as often as you like," Mrs. Britt replied. "We shall be so glad to have you."
They stood at the edge of and apart from the crowd of curious Moslems, who had moved up in advance of the procession. "A gala day in Aratat," observed the stubby Mr. Britt. "We are to have the whole party over night up at the château. Perhaps the advent of strangers may heal the new breach between Mrs. Browne and Lady Deppingham. They haven't been on speaking terms since day before yesterday.
The Squire pulled himself together with the air of one who saw that the situation needed a commander. He singled responsible men from the crowd and ordered them to take charge of the coin. "Come away with me," he urged Vaniman. "This is no place for our talk." When they walked out of the building they saw no sign of Britt. "We'll let him alone," insisted the Squire.
Britt has talked with them," she called to the disgraced nobleman. "They won't stop for me," he muttered, looking at the half-dozen krises that were visible. Britt smoothed the troubled waters with astonishing ease; the servants returned to their duties, but not without grumbling and no end of savage glances, all of which were levelled at the luckless Deppingham.
Harnden, throwing back his coat lapels and displaying all his pencil quills. "Just one moment, sir, till I have shown that Mr. Britt has no monopoly on courage seeing that he has put invasion of a quiet home on that plane. I love your daughter. I want her for my wife. I came here to tell you so; but I was putting politeness ahead of my anxiety after you told me that you were engaged."
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