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Updated: June 4, 2025
"If we leave this job for public officials we shall have all Kent in tatters," said Cossar. "Now is there anything? No! "I think," he said, with his hand on the cab apron, and a sudden glance up at the windows of his flat, "I ought to tell my cousin Jane " "More time to tell her when you come back," said Cossar, thrusting him in with a vast hand expanded over his back....
The Giant was saying something to the motor driver. Redwood stood aside as the machine wheeled round, and then suddenly Cossar vanished, everything vanished, and he was in absolute darkness for a space. The glare was following the motor back to the crest of the Keston hill. He watched the little conveyance receding in that white halo.
An illuminating sentence floated up. "Locked himself in the attic." Cossar was continually more wonderful. He produced great handfuls of cotton wool and stuffed them in his ears Bensington wondered why. Then he loaded his gun with a quarter charge of powder. Who else could have thought of that? Wonderland culminated with the disappearance of Cossar's twin realms of boot sole up the central hole.
Then came the spring-side boots a terrible wrench for corns and the shawl, and the disguise was complete. "Up and down," said Cossar, and Bensington obeyed. "You'll do," said Cossar.
In that south-eastern region of London at that time, and all about where Cossar and his children lived, the Food had become mysteriously insurgent at a hundred points; the little life went on amidst daily portents that only the deliberation of their increase, the slow parallel growth of usage to their presence, had robbed of their warning.
"They'll have to put her in the tallest tower of the old Weser Dreiburg castle and make holes in the ceilings as she grows from floor to floor! Well, I'm in the very same pickle. And Cossar and his three boys. And Well, well." "There'll be a fearful row," Bensington repeated, not joining in the laughter. "A fearful row." "I suppose," he argued, "you've really thought it out thoroughly, Redwood.
Cossar was a large-bodied man with gaunt inelegant limbs casually placed at convenient corners of his body, and a face like a carving abandoned at an early stage as altogether too unpromising for completion. His nose had been left square, and his lower jaw projected beyond his upper. He breathed audibly. Few people considered him handsome.
There was young Caterham, for example, cousin of the Earl of Pewterstone, and one of the most promising of English politicians, who, taking the risk of being thought a faddist, wrote a long article in the Nineteenth Century and After to suggest its total suppression. And in certain of his moods, there was Bensington. "They don't seem to realise " he said to Cossar. "No, they don't." "And do we?
But I let him have it with both barrels, and my! how it has hurt my shoulder, to be sure." A man appeared in the doorway. "I got him once in the chest and once in the side," he said. "Where's the waggons?" said Cossar, appearing amidst a thicket of gigantic canary-creeper leaves.
Redwood fell in love with that great nursery as he and Cossar built it, and his interest in curves faded, as he had never dreamt it could fade, before the pressing needs of his son. "There is much," he said, "in fitting a nursery. Much.
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