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Updated: May 2, 2025
She waited for some one to say something. Mr. Pett undertook the introduction. "Jimmy, this is my niece, Ann Chester. This is Jimmy Crocker, Ann." Jimmy could not admire sufficiently the start of surprise which she gave. It was artistic and convincing. "Jimmy Crocker!" Mr. Pett was on the point of mentioning that this was not the first time Ann had met Jimmy, but refrained.
She gave a little sigh, and turned to her work again. "It's quite demoralising, typing aunt Nesta's stories," she said. "They put ideas into one's head." Mr. Pett said nothing. He was reading an article of medical interest in the magazine section, for he was a man who ploughed steadily through his Sunday paper, omitting nothing. The typewriter began tapping again. "Great Godfrey!"
Thence all of us to attend the Council, where we were anon called on, and there was a long hearing of Commissioner Pett, who was there, and there were the two Masters Attendant of Chatham called in, who do deny their having any order from Commissioner Pett about bringing up the great ships, which gives the lie to what he says; but, in general, I find him to be but a weak, silly man, and that is guilty of horrid neglect in this business all along.
Willie returned and took his place at the table again. But the spirit had gone out of the gathering. The voice of Clarence Renshaw was hushed, and Howard Bemis spoke no more of the influence of Edgar Lee Masters on modern literature. Mrs. Pett left the room, followed by Ann. The geniuses drifted away one by one.
"It is extremely impertinent of them!" In spite of his misery, a wan smile appeared on Mr. Pett's death-mask at this remark. "They should worry about !" "Peter!" Mr. Pett died again, greatly respected. "Why should the New York papers refer to James at all?" said Mrs. Crocker. "Explain, Peter!" Mr. Pett emerged reluctantly from the cerements. He had supposed that Nesta would do the talking.
He, in common with all the rest of the townsfolk who had contrived to squeeze into the old court-house, had been immensely interested in Brereton's examination of Miss Pett. Now he wanted to know what it meant, what it signified, what was its true relation to the case?
A constant eddying swirl was animating the multitude. Whenever the mass tended to congeal, something always seemed to stir it up again. This was due to the restless activity of Mrs. Pett, who held it to be the duty of a good hostess to keep her guests moving.
Pett stood in the doorway, regarding his step-son with a sombre eye. He resented the boy's tone of easy patronage, all the harder to endure with philosophic calm at the present moment from the fact that the latter was lounging in his favourite chair. Even from an aesthetic point of view the sight of the bulging child offended him. Ogden Ford was round and blobby and looked overfed.
Pett was in the home and how little his championship would avail in the event of a clash with Mrs. Pett. And to give Ogden that physical treatment which should long since have formed the main plank in the platform of his education would be to invite her wrath as nothing else could. He checked himself, and reached out for the skipping-rope, hoping to ease his mind by further exercise.
"I got the top price," remarked Christopher reflectively. "I got you quite four hundred more than the market price. How would how would five per cent. be, now?" Miss Pett threw up the gay turban with a toss of surprise. "Five per cent!" she ejaculated. "Christopher Pett! whatever are you talking about? Why, that 'ud be a hundred and seventy pound!
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