Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 19, 2025
I saw Reggie's eyes go up to the ceiling and I knew he was dividing eight million dollars by five. An expression almost of reverence passed into his face as he achieved the result. We none of us felt the slightest inclination to interrupt. Mrs. Bundercombe's long, skinny forefinger drew a little nearer to her victim.
On a long table just outside, covered with a white cloth, was a vast array of bottles and beside it stood a man in a short linen jacket, who struck me as being suspiciously like Fritz, the bartender at one of Mr. Bundercombe's favorite haunts in London. Toward the center of the field, seated upon a ridiculously inadequate seat on the top of a reaping machine, was Mr. Bundercombe.
That was quite enough for me. I engaged the room." I glanced once more at Mr. Bundercombe's nails. "You, at any rate," I remarked, "have been a faithful customer." "Paul," Mr. Bundercombe continued, "I am playing a part. I am playing the part of a silly old fool. It isn't easy sometimes, but I am keeping it up.
"There's a respectable American for you! For thirty years he works as a man should for it's what a man's made for and thanks to his wife's help and advice he prospers. Look at him, I ask you! A baby can see that he hasn't the brains of a chicken. Yet there he stands Joseph H. Bundercombe, of Bundercombe's Reapers, with eight million dollars' worth of stock to his name!"
Bundercombe, who remained quite unruffled. Finally I bowed slightly toward the young lady and returned to my place. "Well?" Mrs. Bundercombe snapped. "It seems," I said, "that we were mistaken. That isn't Mr. Bundercombe at all." Mrs. Bundercombe's face was a study. "Is this a jest?" she demanded severely. "I wish it were," I replied. "Anyhow, Mrs.
"The Sidney Club," Captain Bannister repeated, with dignity. "The club in question may not be very large, but it is quite well known, and I had the misfortune to act as Mr. Bundercombe's sponsor there." I glanced toward my prospective father-in-law. He nodded. "They put me up for some sort of a pothouse," he admitted, "and I handed over a tenner, I think it was, for my subscription.
"A little ebullition of feeling, my dear Paul," he explained, "on seeing you. You met Mrs. Bundercombe? You have heard the news?" "I gathered," I remarked, "that Mrs. Bundercombe's sense of duty is taking her to Leeds." Mr. Bundercombe breathed a resigned sigh. "We shall be alone," he announced, with ill-concealed jubilation, "if we have any luck at all, for three days! One never knows, though!
I've nothing to say against the other fellow, except that I don't understand his point of view. Mr. Horrocks I do understand. He's out to do himself a bit o'good and it's up to you to help him." A determined tug at Mr. Bundercombe's coattails by one of the men on the platform brought him to his seat amid loud bursts of laughter and more cheers. Eve gripped my arm and we turned slowly away.
The girl, though she was more quietly and tastefully dressed and seemed to me to be better looking, I recognized at once as Mr. Bundercombe's companion at Prince's Restaurant on one memorable occasion. The man I had never seen before.
Bundercombe's deportment was certainly more cheerful. For the last week or two he had been depressed. He had paid visits with Eve and myself, and devoted a reasonable amount of time to his wife. The demands on his complete respectability, however, had been irksome. He was too obviously finding no savor in life.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking