Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 16, 2025
Hatchard sniffed critically. "Smells rather stuffy," he said, at last. "You needn't have it," said his wife, abruptly. "There's plenty of other fish in the sea." "Yes; and I expect they'd stay there if they saw this room," said the other. "Don't think I want you to have it; because I don't," said Mrs. Hatchard, making a preliminary movement to showing him downstairs.
"There's the door," said Mrs. Hatchard, pointing. "What's to prevent you?" "And have you going to the magistrate?" observed Mr. Hatchard. "Not me," was the reply. "Or coming up, full of complaints, to the ware-house?" "Not me," said his wife again. "It makes my mouth water to think of it," said Mr. Hatchard. "Four years ago I hadn't a care in the world." "Me neither," said Mrs.
Hatchard; "but then I never thought I should marry you. I remember the first time I saw you I had to stuff my handkerchief in my mouth." "What for?" inquired Mr. Hatchard. "Keep from laughing," was the reply. "You took care not to let me see you laugh," said Mr. Hatchard, grimly. "You were polite enough in them days. I only wish I could have my time over again; that's all."
Suddenly the door opened, and before she had raised her eyes she knew that the young man she had seen going in at the Hatchard gate had entered the library. Without taking any notice of her he began to move slowly about the long vault-like room, his hands behind his back, his short-sighted eyes peering up and down the rows of rusty bindings. At length he reached the desk and stood before her.
"I can't think where you got it all from." "Got it all from?" ses Bill, staring at her. "Why, from 'im." "Oh, of course," ses Mrs. Pearce. "I didn't think of that; but that only makes it the more wonderful, doesn't it? because, you see, he didn't go on the Evening Star." "Wot?" ses George Hatchard. "Why you told me yourself " "I know I did," ses Mrs.
Hatchard, "I've argued with you, and I've pointed out the error of your ways to you, and it's all no good." "Oh, be quiet, and don't talk nonsense," said his wife. "Talking," continued Mr. Hatchard, "as I said before, is no good. Deeds, not words, is what is wanted." He rose suddenly from his chair and, taking one of the vases from the mantelpiece, dashed it to pieces on the fender.
Even old Miss Hatchard had said to her, on a terrible occasion in her life: "My child, you must never cease to remember that it was Mr. Royall who brought you down from the Mountain." She had been "brought down from the Mountain"; from the scarred cliff that lifted its sullen wall above the lesser slopes of Eagle Range, making a perpetual background of gloom to the lonely valley.
He put his handkerchief to his eyes and leaned back exhausted. When he removed it, he found himself alone and everything still but for a murmur of voices overhead. Anon steps sounded on the stairs, and Mr. Hatchard, grave of face, entered the room. "Outside!" he said, briefly. "What!" said the astounded Mr. Sadler. "Why, it's eleven o'clock."
But, of course, if you're afraid, as I said before, of giving way to tender " "Tender fiddlesticks!" interrupted his wife, flushing and eying him angrily. "I'll come in and bring my things at nine o'clock to-night," said Mr. Hatchard. "I'd like the windows open and the rooms aired a bit. And what about the sheets?" "What about them?" inquired his wife.
Hatchard stood for some time in deep thought, and then, spurred on by a short, contemptuous laugh from his wife, went to the small passage and, putting on his overcoat and hat, stood in the parlor doorway regarding her. "I've a good mind to take you at your word," he said, at last. "Good-night," said his wife, briskly. "If you send me your address, I'll send your things on to you.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking