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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Jacob is after his butterflies as usual," said Mrs. Flanders irritably, but was surprised by a sudden afterthought, "Cricket begins this week, of course." "Edward Jenkinson has handed in his resignation," said Captain Barfoot. "Then you will stand for the Council?" Mrs. Flanders exclaimed, looking the Captain full in the face.
I was by this time myself extremely ill. I sought to break from my heart all ties that bound it to earth, and to fit myself for eternity. V. The Rescue On parting from my unhappy son, who was removed to a stronger cell, I laid me down in bed, when Mr. Jenkinson, entering, informed me that there was news of my daughter. He had scarcely delivered his message when my dearest girl entered with Mr.
Bayliss and his father were talking together before dinner when Claude came in and was so inconsiderate as to put up a window, though he knew his brother hated a draft. In a moment Bayliss addressed him without looking at him: "I see your friends, the Erlichs, have bought out the Jenkinson company, in Lincoln; at least, they've given their notes."
"My dear Major," I cried, "under what delusion are you labouring? Mr. Jenkinson, believe me, is incapable of hurting a fly. You must have mistaken your man. Come and see him for yourself." And drawing him to the window, I pointed after the figure of the retreating jeweller. The Major's brow cleared. "No," he admitted, "that is not in the least like him. Still, he gave me his name as Jenkinson.
"Oh, where did you get the pattern for those sleeves, dear Mrs. Conant?" she said. At the corner a policeman helped her across the street and touched his helmet. "Any callers?" she asked the maid when she reached home. "Mrs. Waldron," answered the maid, "and the two Misses Jenkinson." "Very well," she said. "You may bring me a cup of tea, Maggie." Mrs.
Oh! decidedly that is not the man." "The name is not uncommon," said I. "Excuse me, I must hurry, or he will be out of sight!" And I ran downstairs and out into the street as Mr. Jenkinson disappeared around the corner. Following briskly, I brought him into sight again a moment before he turned aside into a small tavern 'The Lamb and the Flag' half-way down the Mall.
I have ensnared nobody's affections, and I am entirely guiltless of all the crimes which you are pleased to attribute to me." "What? Are you not, then, the hound who bears the vile and dishonoured name of Von Rosenau?" "I am not. I bear the less distinguished, but, I hope, equally respectable patronymic of Jenkinson."
Nor were they less demonstrative of their new convictions later at the banquet. Don Jose, with Jenkinson and the padre on his right and left, preserved his gentle and half-melancholy dignity in the midst of the noisy fraternization. Even Padre Felipe, in a brief speech or exhortation proposing the health of their host, lent himself in his own tongue to this polite congeniality.
"Well, I'm d d," ejaculated Jenkinson, gasping for breath in his indignation. "Nay, excellent Jenkinson, not dam-ned but of a possibility dam-AGED. That I shall repay when he have make a finish." "But, darn it all," broke in the landlord angrily. "Ah," said Don Jose gravely, "you would be paid before! Good; for how much shall you value ALL you have in your bar?"
"You have my promise," said Wilmot Edge. "And mine. But but I shall feel very awkward," sighed poor Mr Neeld. He might have added that he did feel a sudden and poignant pang of disappointment. Lived there the man who would not have liked to carry that bit of news in his portmanteau when he went out of town? At least that man was not Mr Jenkinson Neeld.
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