United States or Côte d'Ivoire ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Brummich, hurrying off with the demeanour of the head of an Embassy entrusted with some important mission to a foreign Court. "Were you at work this afternoon, Harriet, beloved?" inquired Mrs. Bridgeman of Mrs. Browne, who was leaning back in the armchair with her eyes closed and in an attitude of severe prostration. "Yes." "Which was it, lovebird? Hysteric Henry?" "No, he's cured."
No wonder you're done up! Ought you to demonstrate? Ah! here's the champagne!" "I take it merely as medicine," said Mrs. Harriet. At this moment, Mr. Brummich, flushed with assiduity, burst into the circle with a goblet of beaded wine in either hand. There was a moment of solemn silence while Mrs. Harriet and the great Towle condescended to the Pommery.
But she's paid something, not because she wants to be paid, but because it's the rule." "Oh!" An armchair was now wheeled forward, and Mrs. Harriet ensconced herself in it comfortably. "I'm very tired to-night," she remarked in her thick voice. "I've had a hard afternoon." "Poor darling!" cried Mrs. Bridgeman. "Fetch a glass of champagne for Mrs. Harriet somebody. Oh, would you, Mr. Brummich?"
Mr. Brummich, a gentleman with a remarkably foolish, ascetic face and a feebly-wandering sandy beard, was just about to hasten religiously towards the Moorish nook when the great Towle happened, by accident, to groan. Mrs. Bridgeman, started and smiled. "Oh, and a glass of champagne for Mr. Towle, too, dear Mr. Brummich!" "Certainly, Mrs. Bridgeman!" said dear Mr.
The poor, misguided soul, yielded again to her distraught imagination, amid the pitiful ejaculations of the entire company, with the exception of one mundane, young man who, suddenly assailed by the wild fancy that he wasn't drinking, crept furtively to the Moorish rook, and was no more seen. "Give her a cushion!" continued Mrs. Harriet, authoritatively. "Mr. Brummich!" said Mrs. Bridgeman. Mr.
Brummich ran, and returned with a cushion. "Sit down, poor thing! Sit at my feet!" said Mrs. Harriet, giving the hysterical-looking girl a healing push. The girl subsided in a piteous heap, and Mrs. Harriet, who had by this time taken all her medicine, leant over her and inquired, "Where d'you feel it?" The girl put her hands to her head. "Here," she said feebly.
Word Of The Day