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Updated: June 19, 2025
Summon a constable! Fetch an officer!" In gusty breaths from behind Mrs. Chater's hands, working like a red paddle- wheel, came the commands. "Stop!" roared Bob; and to enforce pushed forward the battered face till it stuck out flat over the hall. His alarmed mother screamed: "Bob, you'll fall over the banisters!" The two kept up a battledore and shuttlecock of agitated conversation.
Chater's beloved Bob, Mary guessed this to be true. Long prior to his arrival she had been prejudiced against him; acquaintance emphasised the prophetic impression. "Another night, then," she said. He felt he was winning. No girl withstood him long. "No, to-night. Another thing I want to know you better. This arrangement is all new to me. There was a nurse here in your place when I went.
He said brightly, noting with a shiver the gusty stress of his wife's deportment: "You drove up, my dear? And quite right, too," he hastily added, upon a sudden fear that his remark might be interpreted as reproach. "How do you know?" Mrs. Chater's nose went into the brandy-and-soda. "I saw you from the window," her husband beamed. He repeated, "The window," and nervously pointed at it.
She concluded her narrative with jerky facts relative to the scene in the Park. "Then I ran away," she said, "and a friend of mine came up. He had seen. And he thrashed him. When I got back to Mrs. Chater's her son had arrived battered. He told his mother that he had seen me with a man and had interfered. That the man assaulted him. That's all."
The command was unusual, and Mary, waiting as bid, worried herself with surmises upon it. She prayed it did not mean she was to soothe Mr. Bob Chater's digestion with lullabies upon the piano; that it boded an unpleasant affair she was assured. She did not err. Mrs. Chater came to her, dyspeptic-flushed, sternly browed. "Miss Humfray, I have one thing to say to you, no more.
It was her intent to publish this darling work when beneath each letter of the alphabet twelve aphorisms were written. "The miserable hound!" cried she, when the full tale of Mr. Bob Chater's vileness was told; drew "Aphorisms" towards her and wrote in hot blood. Then looked at Mary. "L," she read, "L. Lust. Lust is the sound meat of natural instinct gone to carrion.
Some of the girls lived out at the Highlands, and some in South Boston; there were days when they could not get in from these districts; for such as were on the spot there was double press and hurry. And it was right in the midst of fall and winter work. Bel earned twelve dollars in six days, and got her pay. On Saturday night she brought home four Chater's crumpets, and a pint of oysters.
Amongst well-trimmed boats these learn in time not to adventure, since here they are greeted with ridicule or with contempt; yet among the keelless fleets they have a position of some authority; holding it on the same principle as that by which among beggars he who has a coin even though base is accounted king. Bob Chater's list was ego-wards.
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