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Updated: June 23, 2025
P'r'aps, sir, I 'd better go back into the street and 'ave a look for her." "I think you had better wait here for her," said Doctor Glasson, shutting his lips with a snap. "There are some picture-books in the drawing-room." He led the way. The drawing-room lay at the back of the house an apartment even more profoundly depressing than the one she had left.
Indeed, the bulk of the exhibits in Mr. Hucks's museum could legally have been recovered from him under writ of replevy. But there they were, and in the midst of them to-night their collector sat and worked at his ledger by the light of a hurricane lamp. A knock at the door disturbed his calculations. "Come in!" he called, and Dr. Glasson entered. "Eh? Good evenin'," said Mr.
His back was turned to her. He was struggling for admission, and like a maniac. Glasson she could not see. Sir Elphinstone had climbed out of the car, and came striding back demanding to know what was the matter. It stuck in his head that a child had been hurt, perhaps killed. A dozen voices answered "The roundabouts!" "Explosion at the roundabouts!"
So I conclude you wish to see him personally. Are you pardon the question a friend of his?" "Not a personal friend, ma'am. I came to see him on a matter of business." "From Bursfield," said Miss Sally, with a glance at the card. It was a superstition with Glasson to tell the truth about trifles. "From Plymouth, to be exact, ma'am. I have been indulging in a er brief holiday."
'Ucks? And what might you be wantin', Mr. 'Ucks?" "Nineteen pound ten," Mr. Hucks answered tersely. "Then you can't 'ave it." "That's a pity." He appeared to ruminate for a second or two. "And I can't offer to take it out in orphans, neither. Very well, then, I must see Glasson." "You can't; 'e's not at 'ome." "That's a worse pity.
The attitude of Hayes and of succeeding Presidents is found in J.D. Richardson, Messages and Papers of the Presidents; F.W. Taussig, The Silver Situation in the United States , is concise; Political Science Quarterly, III, 226, discusses the surplus revenue; Quarterly Journal of Economics, III, 436, on the direct tax; W.H. Glasson, Federal Military Pensions, has already been mentioned.
Nuisance there's no telegraphing in the country on Sundays. I thought of getting a porter to dispatch it for me at Taunton; but it wouldn't reach Monte Carlo until some unearthly hour, and we've plenty of time. Miles Chandon will get it to-morrow, probably just as Glasson is beginning to get on terms with the Channel crossing.
"But I don't see what he has to do with with " Arthur Miles hesitated before the terrible name. "Glasson? Oh, nothin'; on'y ten to one Gavel's met with the Mortimers, an', Glasson bein' on the track already W'y, what elst is the man 'ere for?" "He shan't take me," said the boy after a pause, and in a strained low voice which, nevertheless, had no tremor in it.
I want" here she unfolded her scrap of paper and made pretence to read "I want to see the Reverend Doctor Purdie J. Glasson." "Then you can't," snapped the woman, and was about to shut the door in her face, but desisted and drew back with a cry as a formidable yellow dog slipped through the opening, past her skirts, and into the garden. It was 'Dolph, of course.
First thing I noticed was they didn' know he was called Chandon, for Glasson took a piece o' paper an' wrote it down. I was afraid of Glasson, an' pitched that yarn about an aunt o' mine, which was all kid. I never 'ad no aunt." "What's your name, by the way?" "Tilda." "Tilda what?" "That's what they all arsks," said Tilda wearily. "I dunno.
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