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He threw away the match with which he had lighted his third cigar to keep off the mosquitoes, he blandly told his conscience and leaned back in the Morris chair, thinking how congruously comfortable it all was, now that he had his own clothes and the 'bus man could work without soiling his other suit.

'Of course, said Morris, thinking this a favourable opportunity to prepare his brother, 'of course you must stay on in this place till I give the word; I'll give out that uncle is resting in the New Forest. It would not do for both of us to appear in London; we could never conceal the absence of the old man. John's jaw dropped. 'O, come! he cried. 'You can stay in this hole yourself. I won't.

Immediately he threw the cigar and the lighted match to the floor and dashed wildly to the firm's office. "Do you got to burn the place up yet?" Abe cried, and after he had extinguished the match with his foot, he followed his partner to the office in time to view Morris' coat tails disappearing into the elevator. For two minutes he stood still and shook his head slowly.

As if to clinch the matter before his partner could retract this somewhat grudging consent, Morris Perlmutter stalked out of the sample-room and made resolutely for the glass-enclosed office, where Miss Cohen was busy writing in a ledger. She looked up as he entered, and surveyed him calmly with her large black eyes. "Oh, Mr.

She was in the housekeeper's room, superintending in person the selection of certain choice pots of domestic sweetmeats from the family stores to be taken to the town-house, when Mrs. Spicer, who was attending her, said: "If you please, ma'am, there's Jem Morris been waiting in the kitchen all the morning to see you." "Ah! What does he want? A job, I suppose.

Morris tells the story of Pygmalion and the Image in some of the most beautiful verses of the Earthly Paradise.

The site of his residence is indicated on Charles Morris' map of 1765 and there can be little doubt that a settlement of four houses in the same vicinity, marked "Robicheau" in the Morris map of 1758, was the place of residence of Frances Belleisle Robichaux.

"Oh, yes; here is the thing," and he pulled a paper out of his pocket; "the lawyers write that it need not be witnessed." Mary glanced at it. "Couldn't Morris have brought this? he is your co-executor, isn't he? and saved you the trouble?" "Undoubtedly he could; but " "But what?"

And so many people's been after me to do jobs that I'm fairly torn to pieces among um. And it's 'Professor' here, and 'Professor' there, and 'Professor' everywhere, till I think my senses will leave me, ma'am." "Then, if you are so busy why do you come here, Morris?" said Mrs. Brudenell, who was far too dignified to give him his title. "Yes, madam.

"His case in your diary interest me much, and it had bearing, too, now and again on our case. I should much like to see him, and especial when his mind is disturbed." "May I come also?" asked Lord Godalming. "Me too?" said Quincey Morris. "May I come?" said Harker. I nodded, and we all went down the passage together.