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"But she was a great friend of Mary Chetwynde, who used to teach at The Alexander, and she came out there two or three times, and she's a noisy, yelling sort of woman and her hair is dyed yes, it IS, Jim!" "Lord, you women do love to rip each other up the back!" Jim smiled lazily, as he wheeled his chair about, and lighted a cigarette.
You had better go up with two of your men, and take a light cart with you with some straw in the bottom, and bring them all down here. I will ride round myself to Mr. Chetwynde, Sir Charles Harris, and Mr. Merchison, and we will sit at twelve o'clock. You can send round a constable with the usual letters to the others, but those three will be quite enough for the preliminary examination."
And when Miss Pierce and Miss Scott have asked me to their homes, and when Mrs. Forbes took me to Santa Cruz, and Mrs. Chetwynde asked me to dine with them, well, I can't tell you what it meant!" "It meant that you are as good and better, in every way than all the rest of them put together!" said the prejudiced Jim. "Oh, Jim!"
Julia, standing gravely in the doorway, considered. "The girls won't be gone for another hour, Miss Toland!" "The -Oh, the girls, to be sure. Of course. Who else is there, Julia?" "Miss Parker and Miss Chetwynde. And Mrs. Forbes Foster was here for a little while." Miss Toland, drawing on silk stockings, would make a grimace. "What did you tell them?" "Sick headache." "Oh, yes, quite right!
But Pepys writes day by day, like a war correspondent, in the thick of the battle; his head "full of business," as he declares; his heart full of many desires, many covetings, much pride in matters that look small enough. He notes how, by chewing tobacco, Mr. Chetwynde, who was consumptive, became very fat.
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