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Updated: May 5, 2025
Phipps was a widow. Could anything be more suitable or desirable? "Better let him choose," he said. "After all, he ought to be a good judge." Mrs. Phipps, after a faint protest, gave way, and Mr. Digson, smiling broadly, mounted his perch again. Mr. Clarkson's first idea was to consult Mr. Smithson; then he resolved to wait upon events.
"Why not choose 'em yourself?" he said at last. "Just what I told her," said Mr. Digson, stroking his black beard. "What'll please you will be sure to please him, I says; and if it don't it ought to." Mr. Clarkson started. "Perhaps you could help her choose," he said, sharply. Mr. Digson came down from his perch. "Just what I said," he replied. "If Mrs.
In the front parlour Mr. Digson, a small builder and contractor, was busy whitewashing. "I thought we might as well get on with that," said Mrs. Phipps; "there is only one way of doing whitewashing, and the room has got to be done. To-morrow Mr. Digson will bring up some papers, and, if you'll come round, you can help me choose." Mr. Clarkson hesitated.
Phipps was a widow. Could anything be more suitable or desirable? "Better let him choose," he said. "After all, he ought to be a good judge." Mrs. Phipps, after a faint protest, gave way, and Mr. Digson, smiling broadly, mounted his perch again. Mr. Clarkson's first idea was to consult Mr. Smithson; then he resolved to wait upon events.
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