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Updated: June 22, 2025
Talboys owned an extreme aversion to disorder, and was the terror of every domestic in his establishment. The windows winked and the flight of stone steps glared in the sunlight, the prim garden walks were so freshly graveled that they gave a sandy, gingery aspect to the place, reminding one unpleasantly of red hair.
"Do I?" say I, with a pleasant simper; then, with a sudden and overwhelming recollection of the bilious gingery frock, and the tousled hair, "No, nonsense!" I say, uneasily, "impossible! You are laughing at me! Ah!" I did look nice then, if you like." "Why nicer than now?" "Oh, never mind! never mind!" reply I, in some confusion, "it is a long story; it is of no consequence, but I did."
A grinning red face turned once more into a pink oval, fringed with gingery fluff; the interview was at an end. I walked across to the Savage Club, but instead of turning into it I leaned upon the railings of Adelphi Terrace and gazed thoughtfully for a long time at the brown, oily river. I can always think most sanely and clearly in the open air.
An ardent supporter of the local motion-picture palace, she had hoped for a slightly more gingery denouement, something with a bit more punch. "Yes, but don't it show you?" continued Mr. Abrahams, gallantly trying to work up the interest. "There's this girl, goes out of my place not more'n a year ago, with a good bank-roll in her pocket, and here she is, back again, all of it spent.
"Well," says I, "when I was on the Sunday editor's door I did used to think I could put over a few gingery ones; but since I've been with the Corrugated Trust I've kind of got out of practice." "Ah!" says she, beamin'. "That is good, very good! Your associations are better; is that it?" "Mainly it's on account of Mr.
Enamoured of the South, of Provence, of its people, its life, its sunshine and its poetry, narrow-chested, tall and short- sighted, he strode along the streets and the lanes, his long feet projecting far in advance of his body, and his white nose and gingery moustache buried in an open book: for he had the habit of reading as he walked.
The very learned gentleman who has cooled the natural heat of his gingery complexion in pools and fountains of law until he has become great in knotty arguments for term-time, when he poses the drowsy bench with legal "chaff," inexplicable to the uninitiated and to most of the initiated too, is roaming, with a characteristic delight in aridity and dust, about Constantinople.
It was not so with many of the men. The wastage of ill-health seemed to idealise the general character of the features, bringing out the unsuspected nobility of some, the strength of others, and in one case revealing an essentially comic aspect. He was a short, gingery, active man with a nose and chin of the Punch type, and whom his shipmates called "Frenchy." I don't know why.
He shook his head, muttering, "Satan, Satan." The lower part of his face was wide and divided horizontally, like an inverted jellymold. It tapered up into bracketing ears, supporting gingery eaves. I pressed home my arguments. "I will put your proposition to Brother Paul," he conceded at length. "I thought distinctions between one man and another were worldly and trivial," I prodded him.
"Then fall to," he directed, and with a flourish he drew a bottle of ginger ale from his pocket. "How's this?" he demanded, holding it up. "Cheers but doesn't inebriate; not a headache in a barrel; ginger ale to the gingery! 'A quart of ale is a dish for a king," he said, holding up a glass. "That's Shakespeare, Miss Minnie."
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