Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 14, 2025
"Wait a minute," she said. "Who is Mr. Farrant? I never heard of him before." "Member for Greyshot, elected last spring, don't you remember? One of the by-elections. Licked the Tories all to fits. This is his maiden speech, and that makes it all the more plucky of him to take up the cudgels in our defense. Here! Let me read it to you."
"Oh, I should like to!" she said, with the charming enthusiasm and eagerness which delighted him so much. To guide her down the steps in the dusky garden, to feel her hand on his arm, to hear her fresh, naive remarks, and then to recall what Donovan Farrant had just told him about her strange, sad story, all seemed to draw him on irresistibly.
He hardly knew whether to be angry with Donovan Farrant for alluding to matters which brought a look of sadness to her eyes, or to thank him for the story which made her face light up with indignation and look, if possible, more beautiful than before. "Don't offer to put up a fever shanty on the lawn," said Gladys when her husband paused.
They took Waif into a little back room, and did all they could for him; but the chemist shrugged his shoulders. "Better kill the poor brute at once, Mr. Farrant," he said, blandly. Donovan looked up with a strange gleam in his eyes. "Not for the world!" he exclaimed, with a touch of indignation in his tone.
Farrant," she said, with her most gracious smile, "I came to see whether you couldn't induce your wife to sing to us. Now, is it true that she has given up her music? I assure you she and I have been battling the point ever since you came up. Can't you persuade her to give us just one song? I am really in despair for some music." "I am afraid my wife is quite out of voice," said Donovan.
"I warked early an' late through mony a year for it; an' it is gane a' at once, though I hae naught but words an' promises for it. I ken, Margaret, that I am an auld farrant trader, but I'se aye say that it is a bad well into which are must put water." When Ronald went, the summer went too. It became necessary to remove at once to their rock-built house in one of the narrow streets of Kirkwall.
"Scotch people can, at any rate, always play or sing their own national airs as no one else can." Lady Caroline did not really in the least care whether there were music or not, but she had expressed herself very strongly, and that tiresome Mr. Farrant had taken her at her word, and was trying to beat up recruits recruits that she did not want.
"I want to introduce my wife to you," he said. And Erica found that the young married lady in the pale-blue silk, whom she had singled out as the one approachable lady in the room, was Mrs. Farrant. She was very bright, and sunshiny, and talkative.
Cuthbert, smiling. "Our revered member secured her at once, and has been talking to her in the conservatory for at least half an hour, hatching radical plots, I dare say, and vowing vengeance on all aristocrats." "Really it is too shocking!" said Lady Caroline. "Mr. Farrant has no sense of what is fitting; it is a trait which I have always noticed in Radicals.
"Is that the clergyman you told me of?" interposed Mrs. Fane-Smith, anxious to turn the conversation. But her husband threw in a question, too. "What, Charles Osmond, do you mean the author of 'Essays on Modern Christianity?" "Yes," replied Erica. "I don't know that he is much more orthodox than Mr. Farrant," said Mr. Fane-Smith; "I consider that he has Noetian tendencies."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking