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Updated: June 5, 2025
He was lying on his spine, brooding, brooding. Mrs Peagrim resumed her dictation. "'In honor of the extraordinary success of the piece, Mrs Peagrim, who certainly does nothing by halves, entertained the entire company to a supper-dance after the performance. A number of prominent people were among the guests, and Mrs Peagrim was a radiant and vivacious hostess. She has never looked more charming.
"All over in three days," he said sadly. "Now at that time," he resumed, "I did not know what I know now. If I had heard of Nervino then . . ." He shook his head. "It might have saved her life. It would have saved her life. I tell you, Mrs Peagrim, that there is nothing, there is no lack of vitality which Nervino cannot set right.
"Of course we shall. Now you can go back. Mrs Peagrim will be wondering what has become of you." "Must I?" said Uncle Chris doubtfully. "Of course. You must be polite." "Very well," said Uncle Chris. "But it will be a little difficult to continue the conversation on what you might call general lines. However!" Back in the box, Mrs Peagrim was fanning herself with manifest impatience.
"Oh, don't be so absent-minded!" snapped Mrs Peagrim, not unjustifiably annoyed. "I am trying to compose a paragraph for the papers about our party tonight, and I can't get the right phrase . . . Read what you've written, Miss Frisby." Miss Frisby, having turned a pale eye on the pothooks and twiddleys in her note-book, translated them in a pale voice.
"Where are you going?" asked Freddie. "Over the top!" said Uncle Chris. "What do you mean?" "I am going," said Uncle Chris steadily, "to find Mrs Peagrim!" "Good God!" cried Freddie. He followed him, protesting weakly, but the other gave no sign that he had heard. Freddie saw him disappear into the stage-box, and, turning, found Jill at his elbow. "Where did Uncle Chris go?" asked Jill.
Truly one may say that Mrs Peagrim has revived the saloon." Mrs Peagrim bit her lip. "'Salon'." "'Salon'," said Miss Frisby unemotionally. "'They tell me, I am told, I am informed . . ." She paused. "That's all I have." "Scratch out those last words," said Mrs Peagrim irritably. "You really are hopeless, Miss Frisby! Couldn't you see that I had stopped dictating and was searching for a phrase?
"Some of them don't seem quite to understand it." Mr Pilkington was silent for a moment. "I am beginning to wonder myself whether it may not be a little over the heads of the public," he said ruefully. "When it was first performed . . ." "Oh, has it been done before?" "By amateurs, yes, at the house of my aunt, Mrs Waddesleigh Peagrim, at Newport, last Summer. In aid of the Armenian orphans.
If I know Mrs Peagrim, she will insist on going off to one of the hotels to dance directly after dinner. She's a confirmed trotter." "I don't know how to apologize," began Jill remorsefully. "Please don't. It's absolutely all right." His eye wandered to the mantelpiece, as it had done once or twice during the conversation.
"I want to speak to him." "He's in the stage-box, with Mrs Peagrim." "With Mrs Peagrim?" "Proposing to her," said Freddie solemnly. Jill stared. "Proposing to Mrs Peagrim? What do you mean?" Freddie drew her aside, and began to explain. In the dimness of the stage-box, his eyes a little glassy and a dull despair in his soul, Uncle Chris was wondering how to begin.
Mr Waddesleigh Peagrim made a fortune in smoked hams." Mr Pilkington looked at the Japanese prints, and shuddered slightly. "Right up to the time of his death he was urging me to go into the business. I could not have endured it. But, when I heard those two men discussing the play, I almost wished that I had done so." Jill was now completely disarmed.
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