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Updated: June 14, 2025
He suggested the formation of a company to start Miss Mariner in the motion-pictures." "What!" cried Jill. "In the motion-pictures," repeated Mr Pilkington. "He wished to know if I cared to advance any capital towards the venture. I thought it over carefully and decided that I was favorably disposed towards the scheme. I . . ." Mr Pilkington gulped again.
The jurisdiction of the New Zealand Courts to determine the validity of orders for costs by Commissions is well established: Hughes v. Hanna 29 N.Z.L.R. 16; Whangarei Co-operative Bacon-Curing Co. v. Whangarei Meat-Supply Co. 31 N.Z.L.R. 1223; Pilkington v. Plaits N.Z.L.R. 864.
He nearly wept, and he drew such a moving picture of a poor helpless musical fantasy being lured into a dark alley by thugs and there slaughtered that he almost had me in tears too. I felt like a beetle-browed brute with a dripping knife and hands imbrued with innocent gore." "Poor Mr Pilkington!" "Once more you say exactly what he said, only more crisply.
"There are lots of other managers in New York. Haven't you seen them popping about? Rich, enterprising men, and all of them love me like a son." "Make it one per cent," said Mr Goble, "and I'll see if I can fix it with Pilkington." "One and a half." "Oh, damn it, one and a half, then," said Mr Goble morosely. "What's the good of splitting straws?"
He was roused by a more direct appeal, and what seemed to him a violent change of theme. "Did you notice what rum eyes Miss Harden's got? They haven't taught her how to use 'em, though. Hi, Ricky! Aren't you going to join us in a drink?" "No, I'm not." His tone implied that he was not going to join Pilkington in anything. "You seem a bit cut up on Miss Harden's account."
"Then I will tell you about the sad death of young Mr Pilkington." "What!" "Well, when I say death, I use the word in a loose sense. The human giraffe still breathes, and I imagine, from the speed with which he legged it back to his hotel when we parted, that he still takes nourishment. But really he is dead. His heart is broken.
If the Harden Library was not great, it was almost historic, it contained the Aldine Plato of 1513, the Neapolitan Horace of 1474, and the Aurea Legenda of Wynkyn de Worde. The other reason was Dicky Pilkington, the Vandal into whose hands destiny had delivered it. Upon the Harden Library Pilkington was about to descend like Alaric on the treasures of Rome.
Pilkington was afraid that no further sum would be forthcoming from the sale of the pictures and furniture, which had been valued over rather than under their present market price, and represented the bulk of the security. Still, she hoped to sell Court House; it could not bring in less than five thousand. That and a small part of her capital would pay off all remaining debts.
"Otie darling," said Mrs Waddesleigh Peagrim, leaning her ample shoulder on Uncle Chris' perfectly fitting sleeve and speaking across him to young Mr Pilkington, "I do congratulate you, dear. It's perfectly delightful! I don't know when I have enjoyed a musical piece so much. Don't you think it's perfectly darling, Major Selby?"
"America is my friend this so great God's country!" Aggie put down her ice-cream spoon and closed her mouth, which had been open. "Come in, Tufik," said Tish; "and I am sure Miss Pilkington would like you to sit down." Tufik still stood with his eyes fixed on Aggie, twisting his package.
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