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As Mr Bunker’s attempts to throw cold water on this scheme proved quite futile, he made a graceful virtue of necessity, dressed himself with care, and set out in the afternoon for the Park. They had only walked as far as Piccadilly Circus when in the crowd at the corner his eye fell upon a familiar figure. It was the burly, red-faced man. “The devil! Moggridge again!” he muttered.
"H'm,... I hadn't expected him to be so young." "Yes! He's a wonderful young man for his position," said Mr. Moggridge, started on what was now his favourite topic. "He'll be a great man some day, will Mr. Londonderry." Isabel looked up at Mr. Moggridge with added interest. Such a genuine interest in great men as his voice betokened was a surprise in him. Then Mr.
Moggridge omitted mention of eyes singularly powerful and very true and sweet, as also of a long lithe mouth that reminded you of a beautiful serpent, a serpent which the true eyes plainly said would do you no harm. Presently, however, Mrs. Moggridge had to admit that she was very attractive. She knew she meant fascinating, but she wouldn't admit that to Mr.
“That there man, sir,” replied Moggridge, who had been summoned, “is the slipperiest customer as ever I seed. ’E’s hout, sir, I believe.” “We might at least try the stations,” suggested Escott, who had by this time changed, and indulged in the hot drink recommended. The doctor began to be a little shaken.
W Pollock, Mile-End Road, Stepney. SIR: I have on two previous occasions begged you to cease sending daily articles to the Saturday. Should this continue we shall be reluctantly compelled to take proceedings against you. Why don't you try the Sporting Times? Yours faithfully, J. MOGGRIDGE, Ed. Saturday Review. To Messrs. Sampson, Low & Co., Peabody Buildings, Islington.
Moggridge possessed that great undefinable gift of companionability. What is needed in a companion is not brilliance of conversation, but the power to make you feel that you are not quite alone in the universe. Dogs and even children possess this quality for some happily constituted individuals, but for others it is a necessity that the companion be a human being.
In just that look of the rooms was the best portrait he possessed of Jenny. Though he had always been fond of Mr. Moggridge, it had not before occurred to Theophil to make of him a companion; but about this time, as Mr. Moggridge would drop in of an evening to discuss church matters, the young minister would be surprised to note how lonely he felt when he had gone. Indeed Mr.
With a blasphemous ejaculation Moggridge sprang from behind his tree, and set off down the drive in hot pursuit. Lady Alicia screamed, “Stop! stop! Francis—I mean, Mr Beveridge; stop, please!” But the favorite of the crack regiment, despite the lady’s saddle, sat his steed well, and rapidly left cries and footsteps far behind.
I didn’t happen to notice.” “No, o’ course not,” said Moggridge, sarcastically; “that there sunstroke you got in India prevented you, I suppose?” “Have a cigar?” To this overture Moggridge made no reply. Mr Beveridge laughed and continued lightly, “I had no idea you were so fond of exercise. I’d have given you a lead all round the park if I’d known.”
"No, sir, indeed; you make a mistake there," protested Moggridge, lying badly, and growing purple. "Who do you suspect, Jenny?" "Why, of course, it's Mr. Moggridge!" "Mr. Moggridge!" exclaimed Jenny impulsively, throwing her arms round Mr. Moggridge's surprised shoulders, and kissing him somewhere in his whiskers, "Mr. Moggridge! you are the dearest, kindest man in the world!"
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