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Updated: June 27, 2025
"Oh, we don't profess to be old FRIENDS, Lord Tulliwuddle! After all, there is no reason why you shouldn't turn your back on us as soon as you see a newer and more amusing ACQUAINTANCE." "But I have not turned my back!" "We saw nothing else all yesterday." "Ah, Mees Gallosh, zat is not true! Often did I look at you!" "Did you? I had forgotten. One doesn't treasure every glance, you know."
An hour of candle-light had been bad, but an hour of pitch darkness or of mist wreaths would be many times worse. "A wee tastie more, my lord?" Mr. Gallosh suggested, in a voice whose vibrations he made an effort to conceal. "Jost a vee," said his lordship, hardly more firmly. With a dismal disregard for their suspense the minutes dragged infinitely slowly.
Beneath the hat, by bending a little down, you could have seen the dark liquid eyes and tender lips of Eva Gallosh. And the Baron frequently bent down. "I am proud of everyzing zat I find in my home," said the Baron gallantly. The lady's color rose, but not apparently in anger.
"Or perhaps his heart was stirred with thoughts of the past!" said Miss Gallosh, her eyes brightening. In any case, all were agreed that the development of his hereditary instincts had been extraordinarily rapid. "I never really properly talked with a lord before," sighed Mrs. Rentoul; "I hope they're all like this one." Mrs.
"Aha!" smiled the Baron; "my showman again, eh?" His expression sobered, and he added as a final contribution to the debate "But I may tell you, Bonker, I do not eggspect to like Miss Maddison. Ah, my instinct he is vonderful! It vas my instinct vich said. 'Chose Miss Gallosh for Tollyvoddle!"
Gallosh to share your vigil." "Gallosh he vould not be moch good sopposing Ach, but nozing vill happen! I vill ask him." The pride of Mr. Gallosh on being selected as his lordship's friend on this historic occasion was pleasant to witness. "It's just a bit of fiddle-de-dee," he informed his delighted family.
Is he just playing himself or what?" The worthy Mr. Gallosh was so evidently sincere, and looked at him with such an appealing eye, that the Count found the framing of a suitable reply the hardest task that had yet been set him. "Mr.
Maddison, the other with Mr. Gallosh. They were neither of them pleased with you, Baron." "Not pleased? Vat did zey say?" Depicting the ire of these gentlemen in the most vivid terms, the Count gave him a summary of his morning's labors. "Pooh, pooh! Tuts, tuts!" exclaimed the Baron. "I vill make zat all right; never do you fear. Eva, she does smile on me already.
Gallosh; and, in fact, I often tell Tulliwuddle that people will think me more English than himself. The German fashions so much in vogue at Court are transforming the very speech of your nobility. Don't you sometimes notice it?" Thus directly appealed to, Mr. Gallosh became manifestly perplexed. "Yes yes, you're right in a way," he pronounced cautiously. "I suppose they do that.
The piper had already departed, and evidently in haste, since he had left some portion of a bottle of whisky unfinished. This fortunate circumstance enabled them to recover something of their color, though, even when he felt his blood warming again, Mr. Gallosh could scarcely speak coherently of his terrible ordeal. "What an awfu' night! what an awfu' night!" he murmured.
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