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Updated: May 11, 2025
Sanford's fingers tightened on his whip. "Ho!" coughed the cockney. "See! You there!" Robert Cameron looked up at the shout. The blade shot between the child's head and the kitten and hummed gently, quivering in the wood. "Hi could 'a' cut 'is throat," said Percival so complacently that Sanford boiled. "You scared him stiff," he choked. "You hog! Don't " "'Ello, 'oo's the young dook?"
Everybody was sort o' nervous because the Germans had dropped a message sayin' they'd give 'em three days to clear the hospital out, and that then they'd shell hell out of the place." "The Germans done that! Quit yer kiddin'," said Fuselli. "They did it at Souilly, too," said Dook. "Hell, yes.... A funny thing happened there.
We'll treat him like a king, and give him first-rate grub and a doss fit for a bloomin' dook. He must be dotty or he wouldn't need you kids to cart him about. What'll you take for him?" "They won't take anything," said Robert sternly. "I'm no more soft than you are not so much, I shouldn't wonder.
He looked more shifty and slippery than usual, but his manner was bland, even deferential, when he spoke. "Good evening, Miss Radford! Nice thaw, ain't it? but a bit rapid. How's 'Dook?" Katherine winced.
I hear 'im arterwards talkin' to a overseer, or somebody, "confound it," says he no, not quite that, for my dook he never swore, only he said somethin' pretty stiff "these people are starvin'," says he, "an' pawnin' their things for food to keep 'em alive, an' they can't git work nohow," says he, "an' yet you worry them out o' body an' soul for school fees!"
It was a humiliating and chastening experience to the man, who had supported himself by boxing in booths at fairs and show-grounds, to find this "bloomin' dook of a 'Percy," this "lah-de-dar 'Reggie'" who looked askance at good bread-and-dripping, this finnicky "Clarence" without a "bloody" to his conversation, this "blasted, up-the-pole 'Cecil'" a man with a quicker guard, a harder punch, a smarter ring-craft, a better wind, and a tougher appetite for "gruel" than himself.
In The Ironmaster the lover was called the Duc de Bligny, or, more commonly, the Dook de Bleeny; but he has appeared under many aliases. In the chief American version of the theme, Mr. Vaughn Moody's Great Divide, the lover is dispensed with altogether, being inconsistent, no doubt, with the austere manners of Milford Corners, Mass.
'Don't say so, child; he's sick, 'tis true, but don't laugh at dukkerin, only folks do that that know no better. I, for one, will never laugh at the dukkerin dook. Sick again; I wish he was gone. 'He'll soon be gone, bebee; let's leave him. He's as good as gone; look there, he's dead. 'No, he's not, he'll get up I feel it; can't we hasten him?
"'Owever, as I was sayin'," he continued at last, "that there Alf Cobb used to fair aggryvate me with 'is grousin'. When 'e got sent up for a spell in the trenches, and 'ad all 'the fun of the fightin', 'e groused because 'e couldn't go off to some ole estaminet an' order 'is glass o' bitters like a dook.
But, if ever she suffered a moment's regret, now that they were parted, and if he could yet find a way of happiness for both, better than cold wisdom, was there no hope? It was of a way to reach her that he was thinking to-night; and abruptly the big chair ceased to swing and creak. "I'll go and see that chap they call the Dook!"
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