Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 10, 2025
'The last was turpentine, and even your brewing didn't make good punch of it. 'You would hardly suspect, Goldmore, that my wife, a Harley Baker, would ever make gin-punch? I think my mother-in-law would commit suicide if she saw her. 'Don't be always laughing at mamma, Raymond, says Mrs. Gray. 'Well, well, she wouldn't die, and I DON'T wish she would.
Wriggles peering through the gauze curtains, holding the while his hot glass of rum-and-water in fine, a tremendous commotion in Bittlestone Street, as the Goldmore carriage drove up to Mr. Raymond Gray's door. 'How kind it is of him to come with BOTH the footmen! says little Mrs. Gray, peeping at the vehicle too.
And you don't make gin-punch, and you don't like it either and Goldmore do you drink your beer out of the glass, or out of the pewter? 'Gracious mercy! ejaculates Croesus once more, as little Polly, taking the pot with both her little bunches of hands, offers it, smiling, to that astonished Director. And so, in a word, the dinner commenced, and was presently ended in a similar fashion.
Gray had retired, and we were sitting ruminating rather silently over the last glasses of the port, Gray suddenly breaks the silence by slapping Goldmore on the shoulder, and saying, 'Now, Goldmore, tell me something. 'What? asks Croesus. 'Haven't you had a good dinner? Goldmore started, as if a sudden truth had just dawned upon him. He HAD had a good dinner; and didn't know it until then.
Now that she was his wife, surely John would begin to make love to her, real love, kisses, claspings, and what not. For Elsie Goldmore had presumed upon their schoolgirl friendship and been quite explicate in these last days, and in any case Amaryllis was not a miss of the Victorian era.
Only do thou in all things my commands. And seeing by the peculiar expression of the rogue's countenance, that some mad waggery was in preparation, I awaited the morrow with anxiety. The person in question, I need not say, was Mr. Snob. HE was never late when invited to dine. But to proceed my narrative: Mr. Goldmore whirled down the street!
Everywhere that I went in India I found this noble lavish shrub in full flower, but never wearing such a purple as at Lucknow. The next best was in the Fort at Delhi. It was not till I reached Calcutta that I caught any glimpse of the famous scarlet goldmore tree in leaf; but I saw enough to realise how splendid must be the effect of an avenue of them.
A dull and pompous Leadenhall Street Croesus, good-natured withal, and affable cruelly affable. 'Mr. Goldmore can never forget, his lady used to say, 'that it was Mrs.
'Gracious mercy! says Mr. Goldmore. 'Where's the half-and-half? Fanny, go over to the 'Keys' and get the beer. Here's sixpence. And what was our astonishment when Fanny got up as if to go! 'Gracious mercy! let ME, cries Goldmore. 'Not for worlds, my dear sir. She's used to it. They wouldn't serve you as well as they serve her. Leave her alone.
'My love, says Mrs. Gray, in a tremor, 'how could you be so cruel? Why, the dining-room won't hold Mrs. Goldmore. 'Make your mind easy, Mrs. Gray; her ladyship is in Paris. It is only Croesus that's coming, and we are going to the play afterwards to Sadler's Wells.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking