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Updated: May 7, 2025
Gunnill pressing the point, however, she arose and began to set the table, the undue care with which she smoothed out the creases of the table-cloth, and the mathematical exactness with which she placed the various articles, all being so many extra smarts in his wound. When she finally placed on the table enough food for a dozen people he began to show signs of a little spirit.
Gunnill, with an air of cold dignity. "Why," said Mr. Drill, "what I mean is look at that night, for instance, when " He broke off suddenly, even his enthusiasm not being proof against the extraordinary contortions of visage in which Mr. Gunnill was indulging. "When?" prompted Selina and Mr. Sims together. Mr. Gunnill, after first daring him with his eye, followed suit.
"The idea of watching every mouthful I eat!" said Miss Gunnill, tragically; "the idea of complaining because I have some breakfast! I'd never have believed it of you, never! It's shameful! Fancy grudging your own daughter the food she eats!" Mr. Gunnill eyed her in dismay.
He smiled over at Miss Gunnill, but that young lady, who found him somewhat mysterious, looked away and frowned. Her father sat and exhausted conjecture, his final conclusion being that Mr. Sims had attacked the first policeman that had come in his way and was now suffering the agonies of remorse. He raised his head sharply at the sound of hurried footsteps outside.
"Quite right," said Mr. Jenkins. "Still well, it's a marvel, that's what it is; a fair marvel. If you take my advice you'll go in the hat trade to-morrow, my lad." "I'm not surprised," said Mr. Gunnill, whose face as he spoke was a map of astonishment. "Not a bit. I've seen him do more surprising things than that. Have a go at the staff now, Teddy." "I'll see about it," said Mr. Drill, modestly.
I wasn't singing, mind you, only humming when up comes that interfering Cooper and takes me off." Miss Gunnill shivered, and with her pretty cheek in her hand sat by the window the very picture of despondency. "Why didn't he take the others?" she inquired. "Ah!" said Mr. Gunnill, with great emphasis, "that's what a lot more of us would like to know. P'r'aps if you'd been more polite to Mrs.
"Ain't you going to have any?" he demanded, as Miss Gunnill resumed her seat by the window. "Me?" said the girl, with a shudder. "Breakfast? The disgrace is breakfast enough for me. I couldn't eat a morsel; it would choke me." Mr. Gunnill eyed her over the rim of his teacup. "I come down an hour ago," he said, casually, as he helped himself to some bacon. Miss Gunnill started despite herself.
Gunnill, eagerly; "we ought all to help others when we get a chance." Mr. Drill sat bolt upright and looked very wise. He took the smashed helmet from the table and examined it carefully. It was broken in at least half-a-dozen places, and he laboured in vain to push it into shape. He might as well have tried to make a silk hat out of a concertina.
You've been spoiling His Majesty's property, and you'll be locked up." "Yours?" said the astonished Mr. Gunnill. "I lent 'em to young Sims, just for a joke," said the constable. "I felt all along I was doing a silly thing." "It's no joke," said Mr. Gunnill, severely. "I'll tell young Herbert what I think of him trying to deceive me like that."
"Yes, you've done your share," said Miss Gunnill, with a half-glance at Mr. Drill, who was still gazing in a bewildered fashion at the trophies. "You can come into the kitchen and help me draw some beer if you like." Mr. Sims followed her joyfully, and reaching down a jug for her watched her tenderly as she drew the beer.
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