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Updated: June 5, 2025


Do you know, Mr Edwin, he pooh-poohed us coming down: he said he was far too busy for such childish things as Centenaries! And look at him!" Mr Orgreave, whose suit, hat, and necktie were a harmony of elegant greys, smiled with paternal ease, and swung his cane. "Come along now! Don't let's miss anything. Come along. Now, Edwin, you're coming, aren't you?"

But she had not guessed; the idea had never occurred to her. She rose, picked up the envelope from the carpet, carefully replaced the letter in it, and laid it with love on the glittering dressing-table. Through the unlatched door she heard a tramping of unshod masculine feet in the passage, and the delightful curt greeting of Osmond Orgreave and his sleepy son Jimmie splendid powerful males.

Enwright sat alone in the principals' room, John Orgreave being abroad in London in pursuit of George's two landlords the landlord of his house and the landlord of his office neither of whom had yet been brought to see that George's caprice for a military career entitled him in the slightest degree to slip out of contracts remunerative to the sacred caste of landlords.

"And so on and so on," said Alicia, jumping up from the piano in obedience. "We didn't wait supper," Mrs. Orgreave went on. "But I told Martha to leave " "Mother, dearest," Janet stopped her. "Please don't mention food. We've stuffed ourselves, haven't we, Hilda? Anyone been?" "Swetnam," said Alicia, as she left the room with her arms full. "Mr. Swetnam," corrected Mrs. Orgreave. "Which one?

"Well, Miss Orgreave," Edwin grinned. "Here I am, you see!" "And we're delighted," said Janet simply, taking his hand. She might have amiably teased him about the protracted difficulties of getting him. She might have hinted an agreeable petulance against the fact that the brother had succeeded where the sister had failed.

Then the head of Mr Orgreave appeared in the aperture. The architect seemed amused. Edwin could not understand how he had ever stood in awe of Mr Orgreave, who, with all his distinction and expensiveness, was the most companionable person in the world. "Oh! Father!" cried Janet. "What a deceitful thing you are!

Of course he preferred to go out. But he would never have gone out on his own initiative; he would have hesitated until Janet had departed, and he would then have called himself a fool. He regretted, and I too regret, that he was like that; but like that he was. He emerged with nervous abruptness. "Oh, how d'you do, Miss Orgreave?" he said; "I thought it was your voice."

Orgreave?" "No." "But you must know father. Father's 'Parisian' in The Sunday Journal." Despite the mention of this ancient and very dignified newspaper, George felt a sense of disappointment. He had little esteem for journalists, whom Mr. Enwright was continually scoffing at, and whom he imagined to be all poor. He had conceived Mr.

More than once, after reflecting on her, he had laughed, and said lightly to himself: "Well, the chances are I shall never see her again! Funny girl!" But the recollection of her gesture with Mr Shushions prevented him from dismissing her out of his head with quite that lightness... "I'm ordered to tell you that Mr Orgreave will be down in a few minutes," she said. "Hello!" he exclaimed.

The blot on his advent, in the eyes of Mrs. Orgreave, was that he had no fresh news of Marian and her children. "You don't seem very surprised to find Hilda here," said Alicia. "It's not my business to be surprised at anything, kid," Charlie retorted, smiling at Hilda, who sat beside him on the sofa. "Moreover, don't I get ten columns of news every three days?

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