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Updated: May 10, 2025
"Well, missis, as we are na' beating about the bush, I think he's a foo'." "Now that's what I like!" she exclaimed, quite ravished. "He is a fool, Mr. Ollerenshaw between ourselves. I can see that you and I will get on together splendidly! Emanuel is a fool. I can't help it. I took him along with my second husband, and I do my best for him. But I'm not responsible for his character.
She pointed to a sign and a directing black hand which said: "To the hotel." In a minute James Ollerenshaw found himself in the largest and most gorgeous hotel in Scotland. "Look here, wench," he said. "I don't know as this is much in my line. Summat a thought less gaudy'll do for my old bones." "I won't move a step farther this night!" Helen declared. "I'm ready to drop."
This repeated remark of his seemed to rouse the fury in her. "You may 'h'm, Mester Ollerenshaw," she glared at him. "You may 'h'm' as much as yo'n a mind." Then to Helen: "Come in, miss; come in. Don't be afraid of servants." And finally, with a striking instinct for theatrical effect: "But I go out!"
Ollerenshaw entirely agreed with Helen as to the merits of the butler. After dinner James hurried to his lair to search for a book. The book was not where he had left it, on his original entry into Wilbraham Hall. Within two minutes, the majority of the household staff was engaged in finding that book. Ultimately the butler discovered it; the butler had been reading it.
And yet he had never arrived at doing so, though the firm resolution to do so had not a whit weakened in his mind. And now he was absolutely decided, with the whole force of his will behind him, to hang the ship and ocean at once. "There! under the musicians' gallery wouldn't be a bad place, would it, Mr. Ollerenshaw?" Emanuel suggested, respectfully. James trained his eye on the spot.
And for him the word "cap" was written in letters of fire on the darkness below. He made no attempt to answer her question. Those words of Helen's began a fresh chapter in the life of her great-stepuncle, James Ollerenshaw. They set up in him a feeling, or rather a whole range of feelings, which he had never before experienced. At tea, Helen had hinted at the direction of Mrs. Prockter's cap.
They divide the garment by a fissure whose sides are kept together by many buttons, and a defection on the part of even a few buttons is apt to be inconvenient. James Ollerenshaw was one of the last persons in Bursley to defy fashion in the matter of pockets.
A few days later James Ollerenshaw was alone in the front room, checking various accounts for repairs of property in Turnhill, when twin letters fell into the quietude of the apartment.
Ollerenshaw placidly decided that she and James would live at the Hall, though James would have preferred something a size smaller. As I have already noticed, the staircase suited her; James suited her, too. No one could guess why, except possibly James. They got on together, as the Five Towns said, "like a house afire."
"Ay, the pub!" "I believe there is an inn at the bend," said Mrs. Prockter; "but I don't think I've ever noticed the sign." "It's the Green Man," said James. "If you'll send some one round there, and the respex of Mr. Ollerenshaw to Mr. Benskin that's the land-lord and will he lend me the concertina as I sold him last Martinmas?" "Oh, Mr. Ollerenshaw!" shrieked Jos. "Can you play for dancing?
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