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Updated: May 23, 2025
Nevertheless he withstood the shock like a little man of the world, and replied with miraculous and sincere politeness: "I'm sure there's no reason why you should remember my name." And he vouchsafed his name. "Of course! Of course!" exclaimed Mr. Prohack, with a politeness equally miraculous, for the word "Morfey" had no significance for the benighted official. "How stupid of me!"
And if he had not inherited from a profiteer, Charlie would not have gone off to Glasgow, he had heard odds and ends of strange tales as to Charlie's doings in Glasgow, not in the least reassuring! And if he had not inherited from a profiteer Sissie would not have taken a share in a dancing studio and might never have dangerously danced with that worm Oswald Morfey.
Bishop? No, of course you don't. We ought to have told you. My daughter is now Mrs. Morfey. You see in our family we all have such a horror of the conventional wedding and reception and formal honeymoon and so on, that we decided the marriage should be strictly private, with no announcements of any kind. I really think you are the first to know.
His mood was such that he actually, in a wild and melancholy caprice, paid money to enter this building and enquired at once for the room known as the Chamber of Horrors.... When he emerged his gloom had reached the fantastic, hysteric, or giggling stage, and his conception of the all-embracingness of London was immensely enlarged. "Miss Sissie and Mr. Morfey are with Mrs.
"The fact is," said Ozzie, obeying, "the fact is that I've come to see you about Sissie. I'm very anxious to marry her, Mr. Prohack." "Indeed! Then you must excuse this old velvet coat. If I'd had notice of the solemnity of your visit, my dear Morfey, I'd have met you in a dinner jacket. May I just put one question? Have you kissed Sissie already?" "I er have." "By force or by mutual agreement?"
The competition for seats was prodigious, but of course Lady Massulam had obtained her usual stall. "What a pity we can't go!" said Sissie simply. "Will you all come in my box?" astonishingly replied Mr. Oswald Morfey, embracing in his weak glance the entire Prohack family. "The fellow came here on purpose to fix this," said Mr. Prohack to himself as the matter was being effusively clinched.
"He thinks you're a darling," said Sissie to her father afterwards when he and she and Eliza Brating, alone together in the studio, were informally consuming buns and milk in the corner where the stove was. The talk ran upon dancers, and whether Ozzie Morfey was not one of the finest dancers in London. Was Sissie's tone quite natural? Mr. Prohack could not be sure.
"I suppose you've seen the new version of the 'Sacre du Prin-temps, Miss Fancy," said Mrs. Oswald Morfey, that exceedingly modern and self-possessed young married lady. "Not yet," said Miss Fancy, and foolishly added: "We were thinking of going to-night." "There won't be any more performances this season," said Ozzie, that prince of authorities on the universe of entertainment.
What is more, she has never mentioned your name in any conversation until somebody else had mentioned it. Such is the result of my educational system, and the influence of the time-spirit." "Well, I'm dashed!" exclaimed Ozzie sincerely. "I hope not, Morfey. I hope not, if by dashed you mean 'damned." "But it was the most wonderful meeting, Mr.
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