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Updated: June 7, 2025
I, being younger, was "a dear, bold fellow," with a tap of her fan to the words and a look over the top of it like to have come from some saucy jade of sixteen. After which the serving-maid must hand the smelling-salts and the page-boy haste to stroke out her train.
I rely on your discretion." And Sir Seymour went towards the lift, where the page-boy was waiting. Miss Van Tuyn met him at the threshold of her sitting-room. She was very pale. She greeted him eagerly. "How good of you to call again! Do come in. I haven't stirred. I haven't been out all day." She shut the sitting-room door. "He has been here!" "So I heard." "How? Who has "
She was up and was sitting in an arm-chair near the window having breakfast, and looking at her post. "Yes?" Another knock. "Come in!" she cried. The door was gingerly opened and a page-boy showed himself. Miss Van Tuyn looked at him with dread. "What is it? Something for me?" "There's a gentleman wants to see you, ma'am." "I can't see anyone. I told them so at the bureau. Where is he?"
Such was his feeling, when in the tarnished and ornate little lounge of a quiet hotel near the river she came to him preceded by a small page-boy who uttered the word, "Madame," and vanished. Her face, her smile, the poise of her figure, were just as he had pictured, and the expression of her face said plainly: 'A friend! "Well," he said, "what news, poor exile?" "None." "Nothing from Soames?"
About eleven o'clock a key turned in his outer door and a very smart-looking page-boy came through, after tapping, with a telegram on a salver. Dick was writing to Hamilton's, in Berners Street, about a question of gray mats for the spare bedroom, and he took the telegram and tore open the envelope with a preoccupied air. Then he uttered a small exclamation. "Any answer, sir?" "No.
"123" had a vacancy for a page-boy, "Glasgow Man" for a photographer; page-boy must not be over fourteen, photographer must not be under twenty. "I am a little over fourteen, but I look less," wrote T. Sandys to "123"; "I am a little under twenty," he wrote to "Glasgow Man," "but I look more." His heart was in the work. To be a political organizer!
It was scarcely five o'clock the next day when Cartoner was conducted by a page-boy to the Bukatys' rooms in the quiet old hotel in Kensington. The Princess Wanda was alone. She was dressed in black. There is in some Varsovian families a heritage of mourning to be worn until Poland is reinstated. She was slightly but strongly made.
I dare say, now, that if I told you I was willing to marry you myself, you wouldn't profit by the occasion." "I should never want to profit by your loss, Mr. van Tromp." "But suppose I could afford to lose?" Unable to answer him there, she held her peace, though it was a relief that, before he had time to speak again, a page-boy knocked at the door and entered with a card.
The instant after her white dress had disappeared from the stage, a little page-boy knocked at the door of the box with a message that 'Miss Bretherton begs that Mrs.
I would not have missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson, and as the clock makes it a few minutes after four, I have no doubt that this will prove to be our noble client. Do not dream of going, Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness, if only as a check to my own memory." "Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our page-boy, throwing open the door.
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