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"I propose that each member of this party now gives a short biographical sketch of himself or herself," said Hirst, sitting upright. "Miss Vinrace, you come first; begin."
"At the age of eighty, Mr. Joshua Harris of Eeles Park, Brondesbury, has had a son," said Hirst. ". . . The famished animal, which had been noticed by workmen for some days, was rescued, but by Jove! it bit the man's hand to pieces!" "Wild with hunger, I suppose," commented Miss Allan. "You're all neglecting the chief advantage of being abroad," said Mr. Hughling Elliot, who had joined the group.
"You know I can't describe things!" said Hirst. "They were much like other women, I should think. They always are." "No; that's where we differ," said Hewet. "I say everything's different. No two people are in the least the same. Take you and me now." "So I used to think once," said Hirst. "But now they're all types. Don't take us, take this hotel.
"Only one day more," cried Patty Hirst, surveying with deep interest the large new box which stood by the side of the chest of drawers in her bedroom; "just one day! How dreadfully quickly the time has come! I feel quite queer when I think about it. I can scarcely believe that before the end of the week both I and my luggage will be a whole hundred miles away, and settled at Morton Priory.
Certainly, in the opinion of Hirst and Hewet, who lay back in long arm-chairs in the middle of the hall, with their coffee-cups beside them, and their cigarettes in their hands, the evening was unusually dull, the women unusually badly dressed, the men unusually fatuous. Moreover, when the mail had been distributed half an hour ago there were no letters for either of the two young men.
What a miracle the masculine conception of life is judges, civil servants, army, navy, Houses of Parliament, lord mayors what a world we've made of it! Look at Hirst now. I assure you," he said, "not a day's passed since we came here without a discussion as to whether he's to stay on at Cambridge or to go to the Bar. It's his career his sacred career.
Flushing, and proceeded to undo her paint-box. Her husband strolled about to select an interesting point of view for her. Hirst cleared a space on the ground by Helen's side, and seated himself with great deliberation, as if he did not mean to move until he had talked to her for a long time. Terence and Rachel were left standing by themselves without occupation.
You might be sitting on green chairs in Hyde Park. Are you going to sit there the whole afternoon? Aren't you going to walk?" "Oh, no," said Helen, "one's only got to use one's eye. There's everything here everything," she repeated in a drowsy tone of voice. "What will you gain by walking?" "You'll be hot and disagreeable by tea-time, we shall be cool and sweet," put in Hirst.
D'you know a man called ?" Here Mrs. Thornbury laid down her knitting, and a look of extreme solicitude came into her eyes. "There is Mr. Hirst," she said quietly. St. John had just come through the swing door. He was rather blown about by the wind, and his cheeks looked terribly pale, unshorn, and cavernous.
And you? The flourish of initials which she took to be St. J. A. H., wound up the letter. She was very much flattered that Mr. Hirst should have remembered her, and fulfilled his promise so quickly.
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