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"As 'e been calling you names?" "Simply ran into his pails as anyone might," said Mr. Polly, "and out he comes and scrags me!" Rusper. "He assaulted me," said Mr. Polly. Rusper. "That assault? Or isn't it?" "You better drop it," said Mr. Hinks. "Great pity they can't be'ave better, both of 'em," said Mr. Chuffles, glad for once to find himself morally unassailable. "Anyone see it begin?" said Mr.
Among other shopkeepers in the High Street there was Chuffles, the grocer, a small, hairy, silently intent polygamist, who was given rough music by the youth of the neighbourhood because of a scandal about his wife's sister, and who was nevertheless totally uninteresting, and Tonks, the second grocer, an old man with an older, very enfeebled wife, both submerged by piety.
Chuffles, the scandalous grocer, joined the throng about the principal combatants, mutely as became an outcast, and with a sad, distressed helpful expression picked up Mr. Polly's bicycle. Gambell's summer errand boy, moved by example, restored the dustbin and pails to their self-respect. Rusper. "What's it all about?" said Mr. Hinks for the third time, shaking Mr. Rusper gently.
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